


The Virgin Conundrum

by AkashaTheKitty



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Humor, Loss of Virginity, Not Epilogue Compliant, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 14:42:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 55,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13836921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AkashaTheKitty/pseuds/AkashaTheKitty
Summary: Hermione needs to get rid of her pesky virginity for her very own reasons. The solution to that is, of course, to make a list of the boys at Hogwarts to find out which one will suit her purpose best! Draco Malfoy is at first left off her list, but when he finds out and teases her about it, she realises that maybe he has a point--after all, who would be better to take her virginity than the most gossiped about skirt chaser at Hogwarts? When he's not even remotely as willing as she thought he'd be, Hermione realises she's got a challenge on her hands.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Little Dollface](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Little+Dollface).



> This is a repost. Originally posted April 16th 2011 as part of the DMHG Fic Exchange on LiveJournal.
> 
> Beta by **cklls** and **MazVN**
> 
> Banner by the lovely recipient **Dollface**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> The art is by the very talented [arthicule](http://arthicule.tumblr.com/)! Or as they're known on deviantart, [deimlacquer](https://www.deviantart.com/deimlacquer).

_It is an infantile superstition of the human spirit that virginity would be thought a virtue and not the barrier that separates ignorance from knowledge. – Voltaire_

 

Hermione stared at the letter before her, her face feeling like it was made of stone. She had a feeling she should be upset, but she wasn't. Not really. Rather, she felt absolutely nothing. Her insides had gone numb.

This couldn't be true. It couldn't be happening. It must be some big, awful joke. Sometimes Ron had a rather horrible sense of humour. Yes, that must be it. It had only been a few months since they broke up, after all. And she'd even seen him during the Christmas holidays, only a couple of weeks ago.

Granted, he'd been avoiding looking her in the eyes, done everything he could not to be alone with her, and had only made monosyllabic replies whenever she spoke to him. But she'd only thought that he was still upset that she'd chosen to go back to school for her final year. She'd chosen not to confront him, thinking that the year was almost half done and there would be time enough to make up afterwards.

Time...

She felt tears rushing into her eyes, which was odd considering the numbness. How could he already have done this? It had only been a few _months_. They had been so devoted to each other. It was true that he hadn't wanted her to be apart from him for a whole year and that he'd finally presented her with an ultimatum that had resulted in their breakup, but she had considered that a temporary state. One she would soon remedy!

Now... well, she supposed it could still be remedied. The letter was from Ron, after all, and he said that he wanted to be honest with her and start afresh. He called himself all kinds of names and pleaded for her to understand, to forgive him, and for her to take him back. He said that if only she could forgive him for this one mistake, he would try his best never to make another, and he certainly would never repeat _this_ one.

But he had already made this particular mistake, and it was simply too big for her to wrap her head around.

What had made him do such a thing? What had made her devoted, caring boyfriend-on-hiatus decide that she wasn't worth waiting for and sleep with someone else?

Hermione's hands began shaking and she unconsciously crumbled the edges of the letter as she tightened her fists to keep them steady.

He'd had his first time with someone else. Because she'd wanted to finish her education and he'd been unable to understand why going back to school was more important to her than marrying him right away.

It had only been a few months. She'd thought it was temporary.

Gathering her last strength, she stood and stiffly walked out of the Great Hall, aiming for her dormitory. She really needed a good cry right about now.

 

* * *

Tracing a vein in the table that a hundred Hogwarts students had traced before her with her quill, Hermione wondered if maybe she should get over this and do her homework. That was why she was seated in a quiet corner of the library, wasn't it? So she could study.

It was the whole reason for this mess. Her want to excel academically. If she didn't study, it would all have been for nothing. It had already been more than a week. Ron had owled her three more times. She'd sent the owls right back without accepting the letters. She couldn't stomach reading anything more he had to say right now. Later she would have a talk with him but not... not yet. It hurt too much.

Maybe she shouldn't have left. If she'd stayed with him, none of this would've ever happened.

Sneering at the wall as she realised what she was doing, she threw down her pen. What was she thinking? This wasn't her fault! _He_ had made the decision to turn his back on their relationship and be with someone else, not her! If their love wasn't able to survive even a few months apart, then obviously it wasn't meant to be!

It wasn't meant to be.

Even now, she didn't actually believe that. She still loved him. She merely didn't want to face him yet. He'd tainted everything between them and she didn’t know how to make that taint go away. Not when he'd given his first time to someone else.

If only there was some way outside of actually talking to him to learn what had made him do such a thing. The letter had had an explanation of sorts, with mentions of loneliness, alcohol, and a witch who'd been flirting with him for a long time, making him feel wanted, but... it still didn't explain _why_ to her.

What was so great about sex that someone would throw love to the wind for it? She didn't get it.

She understood the concept of sex, of course. She was nineteen years old and did have a libido. She knew her own body and she knew exactly how good it felt to touch it in certain ways. She'd also had a boyfriend long enough to know how nice kisses and exploratory touches could feel.

Yet even knowing this, she still didn't understand the pull that could make someone throw everything away for... what? An orgasm? She really didn't get it.

In the past week she'd been hypersensitive to anything sexual going on around her. Among the other students, she now saw lingering kisses, touches bordering on indecent, long knowing looks, slightly blushing cheeks, secret smiles and dishevelled clothes.

It seemed like far more people than she'd thought were sexually active and were greatly enjoying it.

She'd meant to do it with Ron eventually, but they hadn't actually been together that long before the school year began, and there'd been all the post-war damages and grief to deal with. They'd agreed that they would take their time since they had all the time in the world to get comfortable with each other in this new way.

All the time in the world. Except he couldn't keep it in his _pants_ for a few months!

She glared at her books for several seconds, but then realised how irrationally she was behaving and deflated.

Ron wasn't perfect, no, but who was? He'd been honest with her once he'd realised what he'd done. That alone made him better than so many others. A bigger person would forgive him and move on.

If only it hadn't been his first time. For some reason she thought she could have forgiven him more easily if it hadn't been his first time.

What was so special about sex?

Maybe she should find out.

The thought gave her pause, but then she felt a devil coming up in her. Why shouldn't she find out? Ron had tainted everything between them and she couldn't even think about having sex with him without bile rising in her throat. Whether they would ever work things out was uncertain, but for now... she needed to _know_ what this great allure was.

At least in theory. But planning mischief felt soothing in and of itself, so she went with it.

First, she would need someone to do it with. Nobody sprang to mind, really. She couldn't recall a single boy flirting with her all year. Everyone knew she was with Ron and she certainly hadn't been looking for anything else.

Nothing to it, then. She needed to make a list! Squinting and feeling determined about something for the first time in days, she neatly wrote, " _Alderton, Ewan_ ," at the top of her parchment.

 

* * *

Draco quietly made his way into the library and made a face when he realised that he wasn't the only one who'd chosen to use this Saturday for studying. Someone was at every table he could see, and he really wasn't in a mood to be sociable. He rarely was these days. At least not in a way that was acceptable during library hours.

He slowly began moving towards the back, scouting for a table, but there seemed to be at least one inhabitant for each one. There was plenty of room for him to join someone, but... he didn't want to. He only wanted to do his homework in peace and then go back to his dormitory. He wasn't inclined to share a table with someone who'd heard about his misadventures and would distract him with their staring or rude and invasive questions.

Apparently his proximity with You-Know-Who was extremely fascinating. Funny how he was anything but fascinated himself. He'd been living in Hell, doing his very best to simply survive, and he'd really much rather forget about it. Unfortunately, his very best had made him a criminal and his case was still, for the most part, pending.

They would evaluate his academic achievements as well as his general behaviour and attitude once this year was over, and he hoped good behaviour, good marks, and a generous donation from his father would be what made him free again.

One thing was certain—he would never ever throw in his lot with a Dark Wizard again. Ever. He merely wanted to be left alone. And possibly be allowed to sarcastically comment on something without someone somewhere making a note and telling it to the Ministry who'd then send him an owl, threatening him with Azkaban if he didn't conform. Ok, so maybe that didn't happen every time, but it had happened once and since then he'd had to bite his tongue on more than one occasion. It wasn't worth it. But he was leaving this bloody country as soon as it didn't mean they'd send a whole group of Hit Wizards after him.

He'd reached the end of the library and stopped, scowling at the girl at the table furthest in the back. Why did _she_ have to take up a whole table every single day? She was Head Girl this year and the only Gryffindor girl to redo seventh year, so she didn't even have to share her dormitory!

At least that was the reason they gave. Heads didn't normally have private quarters, though, and Draco and the other Slytherin boys redoing their year had merely been stuck in the regular seventh year dormitory, so he figured that this was the Headmistress kissing the arse of a known War Hero and getting good publicity for it. Something that this school sorely needed these days, after everything that had been going on here.

He detested preferential treatment when it wasn't for his benefit.

Something was off with her today, though. He narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out what. It didn't take long before he realised what it was. She wasn't even studying! She was merely sitting there, staring at some parchment in front of her, neither reading nor making notes—hell, she didn't even look like she was thinking!

And for that she was occupying a table? He couldn't help the sneer that was forming on his face. He couldn't stand her. He hated the way she always dominated every class, the way everyone was constantly sucking up to her, and the way she always looked right through him, as if he weren't even there or were simply beneath her notice.

_Uppity bitch!_

He bared his teeth in a vicious grimace. Suddenly Azkaban didn't seem like such a great risk.

 

* * *

What was she doing? Hermione stared at the parchments neatly outlining all the appropriate boys. This was such a silly pastime. She should spend her time and energy on solving real problems, rather than fantasising about doing something so reckless and immature.

"Are you going to study or not?" a flat voice asked behind her.

She blinked, ripped from her daze and turned her head to see Draco Malfoy glowering at her. "None of your business."

"You're taking up space."

"So are you, but I at least have the decency to not complain about the waste to your face."

He made a grimace. "Hilarious, Granger. Now take your things and move so the rest of us can get some studying done."

"Sod off, Malfoy. There's plenty of available room!"

"I can't share a table with any of you losers."

"Believe me, I wasn't inviting you to." She reached for a new piece of parchment, feeling an odd urge to rearrange her list for the third time. "I guess you'll have to come back later."

"What's this?" he asked, and before she had a chance to stop him, he'd moved forward and snatched her notes.

"Hey, give it back!" She made a grasp for them but he easily dodged her. Damn, why had she chosen today of all days to not bring her wand?

"And what class is this for, then?" he asked, skimming over the names. "Bradley, Mike. Pros: Fit and toned. Seems to have stamina. Cons: Spots. Halitosis." He raised an eyebrow at her.

Hermione's cheeks were flaming and she leapt to her feet and lunged for her notes, but he simply jumped to the side, moved the chair between them, and kept on reading.

"Merlin, you even have Goyle on here!" he continued. "Pros: Tall. Not too bright. Cons: Disgusting pig." He laughed. "Like them dumb, do you, Granger? I always figured that, what with you seeing Weasley and all."

"Give it back, Malfoy," Hermione hissed, lunging at him again, and this time she got hold of his arm, but he merely moved the parchments to his other hand and held them outside of her reach.

"Not so fast, Granger. I want to see what it says about me."

"No, you don't!" she growled and grasped for it."Give it back!"

"Calm down," he said, hardly suppressing his glee. "I need to know if you think I have halitosis, don't I?"

"That would be the least of your problems!"

"MacFarlan... Mallory..." His grin faded and he frowned, his eyes darting over the page. "Hey, you forgot about me! Every other seventh and eighth year wizard is on here but me!"

No, she hadn't forgotten about him. She'd simply decided that putting his name down was a waste of ink. "What can I say? You're not as memorable as you think you are," she hissed.

He scoffed at her. "Mallory... isn't he only fifth year? Going for the young ones, are we, Granger?"

James Mallory was indeed only fifth year, but she'd seen him come in and reach for a book and... well, she'd liked what she'd seen. He definitely looked older than his sixteen years and when she'd asked him his name, age and relationship status, he'd flashed her the most charming grin that had led her to believe that he didn't mind her interest at all.

She finally managed to get her notes back as Malfoy seemed to have lost interest in them. "Not that it's any of your business, Malfoy, but it's not that big an age difference. If he'd been the older one, nobody would bat an eyelid." She rolled up the parchments and put them in her bag.

"Tire of Weasley, then, eh?" he asked with a little snort. "Or maybe he simply has a really tiny willy? Or _maybe_ —"

"— _maybe_ you should shut the hell up, Malfoy!" she cut him off. "And don't you dare mention this to anyone!"

That seemed to be what he'd been waiting for. "I'll keep your dirty little secret if you leave the table."

"I'm going!" She shoved her book and quill into her bag as well and turned to leave.

"Oh, and Granger?"

"What?" she snapped.

He took the time to sit down before he replied, "You might want to examine the reason why you're afraid of putting my name on that list."

 

* * *

Afraid. _Afraid_. Afraid!

Hermione prided herself of being afraid of very little and always facing her fear, so the very notion that she should be afraid of something as silly as putting Draco Malfoy's name on a stupid list was laughable.

Still, sitting at her desk, she felt very uncomfortable looking at his name on her piece of paper.

It was just odd, that was all. This boy was such an awful human being. He might not be capable of murder, but he'd certainly been capable of causing a lot of suffering that could easily have been avoided. How could she possibly look past that?

_Pros: A boy. Cons: Draco Malfoy._

Somehow she felt she should be able to give better reasons, but this pretty much summed up how she felt about him at the moment.

 

* * *

"There's my favourite boy," Pansy said, walking up behind Draco where he was sat, eating, in the Great Hall and kissing him on the cheek.

He didn't stop eating on that account. Besides, he was hardly her favourite boy any longer.

"Where else would I be, Pans?" he asked. "It's meal time. I eat. Amazingly enough, it happens every day."

"Ooh, someone's cranky." She sat down next to him. "Let me guess. Smethley is getting on your nerves."

"Why is everything girls with you?"

"It's not. But she's annoying, you knew she was annoying, I _told_ you she was annoying, and now you're looking mightily annoyed."

He scowled at her. "She'd be all right if she'd only shut up and take off her shirt."

"Oh, that's lovely. Tell your ex that you don't care about anything but boobs. I can't imagine why I put up with you for so long."

"Don't feel bad. It's my natural charm. Besides, I can think of a few more female assets I admire and enjoy interacting with. None of them necessitate talking."

She snorted. "You're disgusting."

"But you love me, really." And oh, how he wished she didn’t sometimes.

"Unfortunately. So what'll you do about Smethley?"

He shrugged. "She'll do for now. At least until I find something better."

Pansy stared at him.

"Oh, come on, Pansy," he felt compelled to stop eating and say after a few seconds. "You know she's about as fond of me as I am of her. She merely enjoys playing with fire."

"Yes, well," she said, concentrating on her plate of food. "Disregarding the fact that you just referred to witches as _things_ , I'm well aware of what kind of relationship you're having."

"It's not a relationship."

"Shut up. Whenever two people interact, there's a relationship."

"Now you're being pernickety."

"You started it!" she exclaimed loud enough to attract some attention. Sighing, she closed her eyes and touched her forehead like talking to him was a great chore. "Look, I know you think these girls are stupid for wanting to be with someone who lived with the Dark Lord for months, but do you really need to act like this?"

"What do you care about Smethley?"

"I don't. I care about you. You didn't use to be like this. You've always been an arse, but at least you weren't completely unfeeling."

"Ah, right. And that's why we're still together."

She gave him an odd look. "I dumped you because you were immature and uncommitted, Draco. Not because you were cold."

"I thought you dumped me because Theo snogged the living daylights out of you and then some and you liked it."

"Well, that too."

He snorted. "Either way, it's about the same result, isn't it?"

"So, what? This is a way of punishing me?"

He resumed eating. "Not everything is about you, Pansy. I've just decided what I want and that's what I'm going for. That's all I'm going for."

"So, you've decided to remain more immature than ever, then?"

"If that's how you want to look at it."

She rolled her eyes at him and got back up and left. He scowled after her. Who was she to judge him? She already had another bloke to nag, so why was she spending her time nagging him as well?

She really wasn't making a convincing case for the appeal of 'maturity'.

 

* * *

He was actually quite popular!

The revelation hit Hermione one day and left her slightly disoriented. She'd spent the past few days scowling at Draco Malfoy every chance she got and had noticed a whole host of new things about him.

For starters, he didn't seem to be seeing Pansy Parkinson any longer, but they were still friendly. Hermione had always loathed Pansy, and seeing how she cooed over her ex-boyfriend didn't help the disdain any. Hermione had to seriously doubt the sanity of anyone who'd go out with Malfoy _and_ dote on him like that afterwards.

And then there were the other witches. Hermione wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't seen it for herself, but apparently some girls found his surly, pasty self appealing. She didn't understand it. Not at all. Mallory from fifth year was definitely much more attractive _and_ much nicer. He'd actually talked to her a few times since their library meeting and was definitely at the top of her list. Malfoy, on the other hand... He didn't even seem to treat those witches any better than he treated anyone else, but they still seemed to want to be around him. _Why?_

Unfortunately, that wasn't the easiest question to answer without giving the wrong impression, so she went for quite a while without solving the mystery.

Then she discovered bathroom gossip.

She wasn't entirely unaware of the phenomenon, of course, considering how she _had_ had to use the bathroom before, but she had simply never realised what a valuable source of information it could be.

It didn't take her long to feel nauseated.

Apparently, Andrew Kirke had been caught cheating on his girlfriend, Ewan Alderton was more interested in boys than girls, and—this was the hard part to stomach—Draco Malfoy was considered someone you should at least have a go at if you were of the adventurous sort.

That was certainly one kind of adventure Hermione could easily live without.

When a girl expressed the same kind of scepticism that Hermione was feeling, the others simply laughed it off and said that he wasn't for everyone, but he was supposedly good.

_Good?_ Good at what, exactly?

She had a feeling she didn't really want the answer to that. Eavesdropping was stupid, anyway.

Yet that night she changed Malfoy's 'pro' to ' _supposedly good_.'

 

* * *

"Are you listening to me at all, Draco?"

"No. I do wish you'd shut up."

Cat Smethley began indignantly sputtering, and Draco smothered a yawn and glanced at the clock. How long was this going to _take_?

She finally gave up on the outrage and crossed her arms over her chest. "Sometimes I think you're rude just to be rude."

"No, Cat," he said, moving to sit down on the empty office's sofa. If he was going to have a fight, he might as well be comfortable whilst doing it. "I simply see no reason to lie to you. I don't really care about your day, your shoes, or who you're currently having a petty squabble with. Either start snogging me or leave."

She gaped at him and then clenched her fists and stomped off.

He supposed that meant their 'relationship' was over. It was about time anyway. She'd begun to think that he cared about what she had to say. He didn't. She didn't have anything to say that in any way interested him. None of them did. The only girl he'd ever remotely enjoyed talking to was Pansy, and she'd long since found someone else, so...

But at least she'd done him one 'favour' before she left him. She'd told everyone at length how great he was in bed—in spite of never allowing him to get that far. He supposed it had been due to her guilty conscience from leading him on for years, only to leave him for someone else. Somehow those rumours had run rampant and he was now credited with numerous conquests.

Apparently that in itself was an aphrodisiac to most girls. They were so illogical.

He got to his feet, deciding he might as well go to bed since he wasn't going to have any fun tonight.

He'd made it down a few stairs before he saw the Head Girl coming at him. He silently swore, calculating his chances of slipping down a side-corridor or into an empty room before she saw him out of his dormitory after curfew.

Granger looked up and oddly brightened. "Malfoy! Just the person I wanted to see!"

He stopped, eyeing her warily. " _You_ wanted to see _me_? Looking for someone to give a detention, then?"

She shook her head and handed him a roll of parchment. "I added your name."

He suppressed a snort. He'd known his remark would drive her bonkers, which was why he'd made it. She was so easy sometimes.

He accepted the parchment and read aloud, "Malfoy, Draco. Pros: Supposedly good. Cons: ..." He stopped and rolled out the parchment to its full one-foot length and stared at the massive block of writing before scowling at her. "Cute."

She shook her head. "No, I'm fairly sure it doesn't say that anywhere."

He rolled the parchment back up and smirked. "Wow, Granger. You must really be struggling with this attraction."

She stared at him for a few moments before she blinked and said, "Excuse me?"

"The very fact that you need to justify one simple 'pro' with so many 'cons'..." He shook his head. "I suppose you can't help it."

She narrowed her eyes at him. She really was easy. "I simply didn't know where to start," she bit out.

"Considering the simplicity of the rest of your list, it seems like you put a _lot_ of thought into this. Far more than you had to."

Her cheeks pinkened. And here he'd thought he wouldn't have any fun tonight. "You'd be the same," she muttered.

"The same?"

"Yeah." She raised her chin. "If you had to put me on a list."

He shrugged and took a step forward. "Pro..." He looked her over from top to bottom. "Nice enough body. Cons would be your annoying know-it-all personality and constant yammering."

Her eyes widened slightly. "Don't forget my blood status."

"I have a feeling that whatever that list of yours is for, it's nothing permanent enough for blood status to matter."

"Really." She tilted her head, giving him a long, thoughtful look that made him wish he'd simply called her a Mudblood.

"You're looking for sex, aren't you?" he asked, trying to avoid the look. "Why?"

"I find it intriguing that you'd chance sex with someone not pure-blood."

"I wasn't offering."

"Neither was I,” she was quick to say. “I was referring to your earlier comment."

He shrugged carelessly. "As long as one is careful and doesn't leave offspring, there's nothing wrong with indulging in a bit of dirty behaviour."

"Charming."

His lips quirked at her dry tone. "Yes, I know."

"I'm feeling seduced right now."

"You wish that were the case."

She snorted. "Hardly."

He leant forward. "Deny it all you want, Granger,” he said in a low, silky tone of voice. “I've seen your list. I was the only one who stood out."

Smirking to himself, he turned away and sauntered down to the dungeons. Teasing the Head Girl was more fun than he'd ever thought it would be. She flustered so easily and couldn't seem to stop herself from being baited by him.

He was almost looking forward to how she would next 'prove' that she wasn't attracted to him. He was quite certain that she wouldn't let him get away with claiming that she was.

 

* * *

_I was the only one who stood out._

Hermione stood, staring at the parchment on her desk with her eyes narrowed and her arms crossed over her chest.

He was wrong. Plenty of people stood out. Mallory from fifth year, for instance, had quite the positive list. Definitely no halitosis there. And, oh, Merlin... he had such a charming smile. She was certain there must be half a paragraph on that.

But she supposed that half a paragraph wasn't quite the same as a whole foot.

Yet the foot was filled with _negative_ traits. How was that supposed to be a good thing?

Oh, he was probably just messing with her head. If anything, she was lucky that he hadn't shared the contents of her list with the entire school. He must be preoccupied to not bother, because she was fairly certain that he would have under normal circumstances.

And, really, when there was only one 'pro' to the three hundred and forty-seven 'cons'... it did say quite a lot.

It was merely the matter of _what_ exactly it was saying that she wasn't certain about.

Was she really so afraid of finding good points about Draco Malfoy that she overcompensated with the bad?

Even if that were the case, wasn't that a good thing? This was _Draco Malfoy_ , for crying out loud. No good sides could make up for all of the bad.

Sighing, she sat down in her chair, staring at the parchment. Then, she got out a new piece of parchment and wrote, _Pros._

Why she was doing this, she had no idea.

_Pros: Supposedly good. Broad shoulders; lean frame. Annoying perception which might work to a sexual advantage._

That seemed like a fair overview.

_Cons: Hateful bigot. Cruel, bordering on evil. Probably wouldn't know how to be gentle._

Those were some fairly good 'cons', if she had to say so herself. Especially the last one, since she wasn't really going to do anything with him that would take his other personality points into account.

She slowly tapped the quill against her pursed lips as she compared the new Malfoy 'pros' and 'cons' with the rest of her list. It looked a lot like the others now.

She still preferred Mallory to Malfoy.

Although... Mallory seemed to be such a nice boy. Maybe that wasn't a good thing. What if he got attached? What if _she_ got attached? Ooh. She hadn't thought about the emotional bit before. Bother. She had to consider that this wasn't a mission to get attached to anyone. She only wanted the sexual experience before she re-evaluated what to do about Ron.

Not that she was _really_ going to do anything.

But if she were... perhaps Malfoy's 'cons' would be 'pros', considering the circumstances, since they would effectively keep her from liking him the least bit. The only thing speaking against him, then, was the not-being-gentle part. She didn't want it to hurt more than it had to. But other than that...

Hmm. She frowned at the parchment for a few seconds before she began sniggering.

It really did seem like Malfoy would've been the best choice— _if_ she'd wanted to actually go through with anything.

 

* * *

"You're an asshole," Smethley said for the umpteenth time. Somehow she seemed to think he might otherwise forget.

"Uh-huh, so you've said," Draco said, placing his hands on her waist and slowly drawing her closer. This was what she'd lured him here with, after all. She'd sent him a note that said they could meet here and _not_ talk. He really was a fan of not talking.

"I don't know why I let you do this to me."

_Because being with me makes you interesting and you love the attention._

But he didn't say that aloud. Instead he moved his hands under her shirt, running them up and down her ribcage, before bending down to kiss her. She didn't resist and he deepened the kiss, manoeuvring her until her back was against the wall. This was more like it. He ran his lips down her throat and grabbed her leg to hoist her up, but she resisted.

He stopped and looked at her.

She shivered as if cold and looked away. "It's draughty here, Draco."

What? She wanted the attention, but she wasn't prepared to do anything for it?

"I'll warm you," he replied.

She continued to avoid his gaze and slowly pushed away his hands. "I'm sure you will. But not tonight, all right?"

_Tease_. "How about not any night, then?" he coolly replied.

"Do you really have to be so crass?"

"I prefer it when I get some kind of payout from my investments. So far the investment of time and energy in you has been a waste. All I have so far is some witch who thinks she's my girlfriend and can tell me what to do, with absolutely none of the perks. I'll pass."

She slowly shook her head whilst listening to him, as if in disbelief. "They really were right about you."

"Of course they were right about me," he replied, having a fairly good idea what 'they' had said about him. "Any idiot could see that at a glance."

"I thought it was simply a front, but you really are bitter and rotten to the core, aren't you? Well, good luck with that!" Then she shoved him away and almost ran out.

Bitter? Who was bitter? Not him. He was merely annoyed with the fact that one part of his body wanted to be with girls whilst another couldn't stand them. Having physical urges that apparently required shutting off his brain was a pain. Especially when they were lying little bitches just trying to lead him around by his cock without actually delivering on their promises.

If only he were attracted to blokes. Or knew any _interesting_ girls who'd go for an ex-Death Eater who might or might not go to Azkaban for an undetermined duration after he finished school.

He figured he might as well begin to attempt to train the former, because the latter was never going to happen.


	2. Chapter 2

Watching Malfoy had become some kind of twisted hobby of Hermione's. It took her mind off Ron most days, at least, and even on the days when nothing could take her mind off him, she felt better having slightly petty fantasies of what Ron would say if she had sex with Malfoy.

She was certain that would make Ron _really_ regret his own actions.

And possibly never want her again.

That thought gave her a bit of pause, but then she became angry. What right did _he_ have to not want _her_? She'd saved her first time for him and had never even considered looking at another wizard before she got the devastating news. No, he had no right to not want her. In fact, if he didn't want her, then good riddance!

Except, she didn't really feel like it would be a good riddance. She merely hoped with all of her being that he wouldn't act like that, because that coupled with his own mistake would definitely make it impossible for her to return to him.

So she really had two choices. Either she could refrain from tempting fate and forgive and forget, or she could make the ultimate test.

Although the whole idea with a 'test' seemed so petty.

Yet she couldn't forgive and forget. She still couldn't stomach the thought of making love to Ron for the first time, knowing that he'd been with someone else. Knowing that he hadn't waited for her.

It would all have been so easy if she could either forgive him or completely let him go. As it was, she was currently caught in purgatory, and the only way out seemed through some kind of painful action.

She couldn't let him go.

Malfoy seemed to be between witches. He didn't seem too discriminatory and he _had_ claimed to find her body nice. She wouldn't exactly have to tell Ron _who_ it was she'd been with, either. She could just tell him the truth... that she had to _know_.

Not knowing was killing her.

And Malfoy... maybe he could be persuaded to be gentle with her. He didn't seem particularly rough around any of the other witches, after all. Mostly he was sneering, but she hadn't seen him be very forceful. The two times she'd come across him interacting with a female in a private place—where they hadn't been supposed to be, so Hermione had taken a perverse pleasure in breaking up the party and docking house points—he had actually physically seemed something that came close to gentle.

She didn't care if his words weren't gentle at all. She wasn't interested in his words. She was interested in his reputation and experience and how it could help her.

Malfoy would probably enjoy 'sticking it to' her in his own right. She could only imagine his future smug attitude around Ron and Harry. She didn't really care.

She just wanted it over with.

* * *

“Want to go somewhere more private together?” Lina Ramsey asked with a secret little smile.

Yes, Draco _did_ want to go somewhere more private than this classroom together with the pretty Lina, but he’d glimpsed something bushy a few minutes ago and he knew that the Head Girl was waiting for an opportunity to harass him again. And unfortunately, she did have a leg to stand on as he was supposed to be in his common room at this hour. But how was he supposed to ever have any fun if he couldn't go anywhere?

“Maybe some other time,” he said, making sure to show all of his regret. “I have something I have to do right now.”

“Are you certain?” Lina purred, going closer to him and putting her hands on his chest. “I think we could have a lot of... fun.”

He had no idea what Lina’s motivations were yet. If he had to make a guess, he’d probably go with her trying to make someone else jealous or get back at an ex. She didn’t seem as interested in his reputation as Smethley had been, but she didn’t really know him well enough to be interested in _him_ as a person, either.

Still... she was pretty. And less annoying than so many others. And the way she’d already snogged him earlier made him optimistic that she wasn’t even a tease.

So he really didn’t need for Granger to scare her off.

“Sorry, love,” he said, carefully removing her hands. “This can’t wait. We’ll talk again tomorrow, yeah?”

She looked genuinely put out. “Fine. We don’t have to.”

“Oh, we have to. But tomorrow.”

She sniffed. “Forget it. I’m not taking a number and getting in line behind whoever this is.”

“It’s not another girl.”

“Oh, there you are, lover,” a voice said behind him. “Are you ready?”

He cringed. Granger had been eavesdropping and was wrecking his love life on purpose. He opened his mouth to try to placate Lina, but before he could think of anything to say, she’d disappeared in a huff.

He groaned. So close this time. _So close._

“She was an upgrade from your last one,” Granger conversationally said. “I see your tastes have improved."

He didn’t comment on that with anything but a murderous look. “Stalking and harassing now, Granger? I know you’re sweet on me, but you’re really taking it too far.”

“I’m not sweet on you.”

“Yet you follow me everywhere I go and scare off the competition.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m _sweet_ on you.”

Her lack of adamant refusal that she did any such thing on purpose threw him for a loop. “Come again?”

“I re-evaluated my list and you were right.”

He eyed her warily. “I was?”

“Yes. You absolutely did stand out.”

Of course he’d stood out, she’d more reason to dislike him than anybody! “That’s great. Now go find someone who stands out in a positive way.”

She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to like this person. Half your ‘cons’ are actually ‘pros’, as it turns out.”

He really didn’t like where this was going. “Half still leaves a whole lot of ‘cons’.”

“True. I did consider that. But the fact of the matter is that if we can make some sort of deal, you will do perfectly.”

“A deal?”

“Sex. You have expertise and claimed to like my body. There will be no talking or interacting outside of the sex, and there will be no mentioning _of_ the sex afterwards. Oh, and the sex won’t be rough.”

“I really don’t see what’s in it for me.”

She pursed her lips. “Really? You don’t see the appeal in deflowering _me_ , the girl you despise in all kinds of ways on her own merits, and the friend of Harry Potter and ex-girlfriend of Ron Weasley?”

_Deflowering?_ He wasn’t sure why learning that Hermione Granger was a virgin surprised him so much that his jaw actually went slack.

Maybe it had something to do with _her propositioning him_.

“Why?” he asked.

“That’s none of your business.”

He shook his head. “Fine. Never mind. I’m not doing it. You’re mental and should be locked up.”

“Obviously you need time to think.”

“I don’t need time to think.”

“I’ve watched you, Malfoy. You’re not one to turn down no-strings flings.”

“With you, I am. Have you even _considered_ what you’re asking me to do here? Can you even imagine the two of us kissing?”

She looked like she really gave it some thought. Merlin, she honestly hadn’t thought about that, had she?

Finally she said, “We wouldn’t have to kiss. I don’t mind.”

He groaned. She was missing the point by a mile. “A good rule of thumb is never to sleep with anyone you wouldn’t want to kiss.”

She wrinkled her nose. “That’s a stupid rule of thumb.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Fine,” she said. “We’ll kiss.”

“I don’t want to kiss you.”

She sighed. “So, what you’re saying is that you’re not attracted to me at all?”

He slowly nodded, not quite understanding why this would surprise her.

She began slowly unbuttoning the white button-down shirt she was wearing.

“What are you doing?” he warily asked, wondering if now was the time to bolt.

“Checking your theory.”

“Uh, Granger, when a bloke says he isn’t interested, it’s not really a theory...”

“Fine, checking _my_ theory, then.”

“And what theory would that be?”

“That you’re full of it.”

He didn’t know what to reply. Skin was beginning to show. She had freckles just above her breasts, which were cupped by a cute white lace bra. They had a nice un-padded shape. They looked perky. He wondered if they would be as perky without the bra, or if they would sag. Some breasts sagged a lot, even if they weren’t very big. But hers didn’t look like they’d sag. And they weren't as small as he'd thought.

“It might help your case if you could stop staring at my boobs, Malfoy.”

He blinked and looked away, feeling his own cheeks heat. “I’m eighteen years old, Granger. I’ll stare at anything that even resembles a breast.”

“Hmm.” She undid the last button and allowed the shirt to slide down to the floor, reaching behind herself.

He almost choked on his own saliva. “What are you doing?”

Her bra came undone and slid down to join her shirt.

Two round, perky freckled breasts were staring him right in the face. Or maybe he was staring right at them. He wasn’t quite certain any longer. His world was comprised of breasts.

“Yes,” she calmly said as if she weren’t half-naked. “I definitely see your disinterest. Especially around the groin area.”

He cleared his throat so his voice wouldn’t squeak. “Involuntary reaction, Granger.”

She snorted at him. “That may be, Malfoy, but you could’ve walked out at any time you wanted, yet didn’t.”

Walk out? He could walk? He had feet? With a last glance at the glory in front of him, he turned on his heel and walked off.

* * *

Hermione's cheeks were blazing and she was almost shaking with embarrassment combined with an odd excitement as she re-dressed.

She'd just stripped down in front of Draco Malfoy.

That had to be one of the most reckless things she'd ever done, even taking everything she did in the war into account, but she was unable to regret it. It had been exhilarating to see that _look_ on his face.

He could claim not to want her all he wanted, but she'd seen the way his pupils had dilated as he licked his lips and seemed unable to tear his gaze away from her.

And there had _definitely_ been a bulge in his trousers.

She hadn't quite expected him to walk away, though. She'd thought he would go for it. She'd thought a boy like him would appreciate the easy sex and his rejection had certainly managed to surprise her.

Yet Hermione Granger didn't mind surprises and she certainly never backed down from a challenge. She'd seen the physical proof of his arousal and that was all she needed. Regardless of what he said about 'involuntary reactions', she didn't believe for one second in the nonsensical statement that men were powerless when it came to the will of their dicks. That was just yet another way for them to refuse to take responsibility for their own actions. No, if he didn't want her to pursue him, he'd have to do much better than drooling at the sight of her naked skin.

This would be fun.

* * *

Draco sat rigid in his seat and stared straight ahead at the blackboard without seeing a thing.

His day had become surreal.

It had started out in a common enough way, with him waking up tired from a long night of being subjected to someone's clogged sinuses and eating a breakfast that had gone cold... and then it had gone all downhill from there.

Lina was avoiding him. Pretty, soft, _willing_ Lina. Oh, how he mourned the loss.

And if that wasn't enough, Granger was now openly harassing him, making people talk. He didn't _want_ to be associated with her, damn it, but there were limits to what he could do without pissing off all the people that controlled his future.

She'd sat next to him in every class they had together, and he was powerless to stop her.

She put a piece of parchment between them.

" _What's wrong?_ " she wrote on it. " _You look tired._ "

He ignored it. Maybe if he ignored her, she'd go away.

" _You can borrow my bed..._ " she wrote.

" _Leave me alone!_ "

So maybe he wasn't very good at ignoring people.

" _I'm amused at how scary you find my breasts._ "

Scary? That was a fairly apt description. They'd haunted his dreams and made him wake up bathed in sweat.

" _What is it you want?_ "

" _You know what I want._ "

In this case, even knowing made it hard for him to believe. " _Why?_ "

" _Why not?_ "

" _Weasley._ "

" _Ron and I have broken up._ "

" _Sorry to hear that._ "

" _No, you aren't._ "

" _Believe me. I am._ " He really was. If she'd had her Weasley, she wouldn't have been pursuing him like this.

She sighed and wrote, " _I don't understand you. I saw your reaction and I know you're not exactly fond of most of the other girls you have relations with._ "

Relations? That was one way to put it. But he didn't reply.

" _You have a hearing coming up this summer,_ " she continued writing. " _I could give you a positive statement._ "

" _Let me guess—as opposed to the negative one you'll give if I don't sleep with you?_"

She shot him a disgusted look. " _As opposed to no statement at all, genius. What do you take me for?_ "

He wasn't quite certain so he didn't reply.

She wasn't discouraged. " _I'm trying to catch you with sugar, not vinegar._ "

" _Catch me?_ "

" _I liked the way you looked at me._ "

" _I didn't. You were imagining things._ "

" _No, I wasn't. But I was once I got back to my room. Were you?_ "

He flushed, feeling very uncomfortable about discussing this right here. Especially since he could feel his body reacting to the memory. " _Not here!_ "

" _Where, then?_ "

"Mr Malfoy!" Draco was torn out of his vivid memories of perky, freckled breasts by Professor Vector's stern voice.

"Yes?" he stammered, well-knowing that his face was beet red.

"Is there anything you would like to share with the rest of the class?"

_Oh, Merlin, no!_

"He was asking me to explain to him the exact properties of the number nine using Wenlock's numerical chart," Granger said, absentmindedly tapping at the parchment between them with her wand. "He didn't quite understand the explanation in the book."

Professor Vector picked up the parchment and Draco felt ready to die as she read it. This had to be the biggest humiliation he'd ever suffered, and he'd suffered a few.

"Hmm," Professor Vector said. "Very good explanation, Ms Granger, but I'd appreciate it if you kept this out of class."

"Yes, Professor. I'm sorry, Professor," Granger said as if nothing was amiss.

Professor Vector put the parchment back down and Draco saw that it did indeed contain charts and explanations. He quickly glanced at Granger who shrugged and smirked in a way that said, _you didn't really think I wouldn't plan for something like that?_

Insufferable know-it-all.

* * *

Every Tuesday and Friday night Draco had to report to the Headmistress. It was part of the deal that allowed him to continue here. She'd evaluate his class participation, marks, and statements from the teachers, as well as any other things she felt relevant.

He hated being subject to such scrutiny, but he knew better than to complain. Instead, he had to simply sit there, week after week, suffering the indignity of having his every word and action analysed and recorded.

At least Granger hadn't reported him for being out after hours or teasing her at the library. Yet.

"You seem to be doing much better," Professor McGonagall stated, looking over her parchments. "Your attitude has been vastly approved."

More like smothered.

"Trying my best, Professor."

"That's good to hear, Mr Malfoy." She put away the reports she'd been reviewing. "But here's the thing. I am a busy woman, and I won't be here the next few weeks."

No scrutiny? "Oh?" He felt something resembling hope begin to grow. Even a few weeks' respite from these meetings would make him feel tremendously better.

"Yes, but these check-up meetings are mandatory for you."

"Oh." He deflated. Of course she wasn't going to bend the rules for him.

"I considered having another teacher oversee your case, but frankly, most of them are busy and don't need the extra headache."

"Then what?" He knew he sounded flat and contrary, but he didn't care.

There was a knock on the door.

"Enter!" Professor McGonagall said.

Draco half-turned his head and saw Granger enter the room. Great. He just loved for her—for anyone, really—to see him in this position.

"Ah, there you are, Ms Granger," McGonagall said, instantly making Draco suspicious. _Why_ would Granger need to be here _now_? "As I was saying," McGonagall continued, directed at Draco, "I was looking for someone to meet with you and evaluate you twice a week whilst I'm gone, and the Head Girl has asked me to assign her a detentionee to help tidy up the books at the library whilst Madam Pince is on extended sick leave."

"I'm not a detentionee."

"You'll do. Ms Granger will report directly to me, so I would advise against giving her any grief. Think of this as a different way to evaluate you."

"But—"

Professor McGonagall completely ignored him. "I suggest you start tonight. Our library is fairly large and Ms Granger tells me that students aren't very good at putting the books in their rightful places. You’re dismissed."

He slowly got up and walked straight out without even looking at Granger. He couldn't _believe_ the girl's gall!

"Well..." he said after they'd walked for a while in silence. "I don't know how you pulled it off, but I guess you now have complete power over me."

She immediately, forcefully slapped the back of his head.

"Ow!" he exclaimed before he could help himself. "What was that for?"

"For being a complete ninny. I hardly asked her for you! And what exactly is it you keep accusing me of trying to do? I'm not you. I don't need to _force_ someone to sleep with me."

"Oh, you're saying that I do?"

"I'm saying that you certainly think like someone who does!"

"I get plenty of offers, thanks. I even recall the Head Girl throwing herself at me."

Granger snorted. "And I recall you being too scared to take her up on it."

"Please. Like I need for someone with that kind of power to get jealous and use whatever means necessary to ruin my life."

She stopped walking and grabbed his arm to make him stop as well. "Is that what you think will happen?"

He moved his arm from her grasp. "I know girls." He attempted to continue walking but suddenly felt himself backed up against a wall, facing a Head Girl standing too close.

He'd never have figured her to be so aggressive. True, she had slapped him that one time but that had been... different.

"That would never happen," she very earnestly said. "You can be with whoever you want, whenever you want."

"Yeah? Funny, last I checked, you were actively scaring my prospects away."

She had the courtesy to blush. "All right, so maybe I did do that. But only when you were breaking the rules. And I didn't report you to the Headmistress even though I've been specifically told to do that."

"It's so nice to be persecuted."

"Congratulations, Malfoy. You now have an inkling of what it was like to be a Muggle-born under Voldemort. There's hope for you yet!"

Now it was his turn to flush. "Doesn't make it right," he muttered.

"It's my job to get on your case. Keep a low profile and I won't have any reason to come after you."

"And if you have your way?"

"I've never been adverse to preferential treatment towards those that please me."

"Remind me never to vote for you for Minister for Magic."

She laughed. "Oh, come on, now, Malfoy. That would be exactly the kind of minister you'd want. Besides, it's not really the same thing. I don't honestly see it damaging my integrity to turn a blind eye to you sneaking out with some girl at night."

"Doesn't it bother you to negotiate with me like this to get me to have sex with you?"

She blinked as if honestly surprised. "No. Should it?"

He shook his head at her. She honestly didn't seem to function on any level he'd call _normal_. "Don't you want your first time to be with someone who wants you?"

She shrugged and let her gaze slide down his frame and up again to meet his eyes. "You want me."

"I do not!"

"Part of you does. The important part."

He flushed even deeper than before. "I'd have that reaction to any girl stripping down in front of me. _Any_ girl!"

"I never said you wouldn't. But I also know that you would go for almost any girl, so it's a curious thing how you keep digging your heels in when it comes to me." She cocked her head, looking at him in that _way_ again.

"You're freaking me out, Granger," he finally said, edging to the side and then resuming his walk towards the library. She _was_ freaking him out. And turning him on. It was a bad, bad combination and he wished he could simply run away from her.

She caught up with him and grinned. "I know. It's so funny. You'd think you'd never have a girl come on to you before."

"Oh, not quite like this."

"It's a pity," she stated. "I've done some research on the matter and it seems that males are always encouraged to be the aggressors, not taking 'no' for an answer, whilst females are encouraged to be cautious and even reluctant. I don't think I like that model. I find being the aggressor quite exhilarating."

"Uh-huh." He could believe that.

"I only wish you weren't so reluctant, because I'm seriously beginning to need release. And I don't mean the kind I can give myself. I've tried and it wasn't enough."

His eyes widened before he could check his reaction. "Damn it, Granger, I did not need to know that!"

"No? I thought you might appreciate the mental image of me touching myself..."

No, no, he did not. He didn't need the image of her touching those lovely, round, freckled breasts, before her hand slid down between her legs and she threw her head back and moaned...

He was almost running the last stretch to the library, not quite certain what kind of salvation he was hoping to find there. They would still be all alone.

This was _torture_.

* * *

Hermione smothered a laugh as Malfoy's stride lengthened, bringing him in front of her.

It was so much fun to make him blush.

Not to mention that he could deny it all he wanted, but it turned him on to be pursued. She was inexperienced, not stupid. She could see the way he looked at her and the way his hands fisted. He claimed he didn't have the least inclination to kiss her, but everything in his body language contradicted that.

He took several steps inside the library before he turned around and demanded, "So, what am I supposed to do now?"

She raised an eyebrow. Nah, too easy. She pointed towards the door behind the librarian's desk. "In there are the newly returned books. They need to be shelved."

He nodded and strode over and opened the door. Then he stopped in his tracks and scowled at her. "What are you trying to pull, Granger?"

She pursed her lips. "Madam Pince has been out for a while, Malfoy. I only have the time to do this some days, and the other teachers can generally only give a few hours a week as well."

" _Other_ teachers? Thinking highly of ourselves, are we?"

"Other than Madam Pince, nitwit."

"Madam Pince isn't a teacher."

She gave him her best death glare for being so pedantic, but he merely smirked back.

" _Anyway_ ," she said, "those books will now be your problem."

"I think you mean our problem."

Now it was her time to smirk. "No. I really do mean your problem." Then she went over to a nearby shelf, picked out a book and sat down to read.

Maybe that would teach him not to be so annoying.

* * *

Draco shook his head and got to work. For someone who claimed to be trying to seduce him, she certainly wasn't very keen on being nice to him. He even almost said as much, but then he realised that she might see it as encouragement.

Damn. Baiting Granger with her supposed attraction to him had been one of his favourite pastimes. Who would've thought she would take him seriously? He glanced at her, where she was sitting, as he was taking a stack of books past her. She was wearing a skirt today. It was insane to wear a skirt in this draughty castle at this time of year, but looking at her, he could see why she was doing it.

She'd turned her chair to face the chair next to her and was resting her left foot on its spindle, making the skirt fall back to reveal a good part of her thigh. It was a really nice thigh. All shapely and soft-looking...

Sudden pain hit him square in the face and he dropped his books and swore.

"Be careful with those!" Granger called out, humour colouring her voice.

He scowled at her, feeling his face heat up for who knew what time. She'd probably seen him walk straight into that bookcase and figured out why. Damn her!

* * *

Oh, this was the best day _ever_. If anything, Hermione was sorry that she'd never discovered how much fun it was to play with Malfoy before.

Obviously the boy was more controlled by his nether regions than he'd like to admit.

To his credit and her disappointment, he decided to completely ignore her after that and managed to neither blush nor walk into things. It didn't take long for her to reach a point where she was actually considering pulling her skirt far enough up to show knickers. Just to see how he'd react, of course.

But in order for him to react, he'd have to see it, and currently he was much too good at completely avoiding looking at her.

She tried yawning and stretching. No result. Then she slowly got up and sauntered over to put her book in place, striking a pose that showed her body off to its best advantage. No result. Then, finally, she walked up to the ladder he was currently climbing to put a book in its place.

She narrowed her eyes at the book binding and rolled her eyes. "Wrong spot, Malfoy."

He looked down at her. "Nice try."

He was bound to have a good view of her cleavage. The thought made her smirk. "Not trying anything here, Malfoy."

"This book should go under F."

"Yes, it should. But it should go under F in the Magical Theory section, not the Potions and Elixirs section."

He looked down at the book. "Oh. Oops."

She pursed her lips. "How many do you reckon you put wrong?"

He half-shrugged and began climbing down. "How many do you reckon I put on the shelves?"

She gaped. Was he serious? "Oh, come on, Malfoy! They can't all be wrong!"

"I don't really know, do I?"

"For crying out loud! You'd think you'd never used the library before!"

"Never in this way. Besides, weren't you supposed to supervise me?"

They had a glaring contest. Then after a few moments, Hermione lost her patience and threw up her hands. "Well, there's nothing to be done about it, is there? We have to go through every shelf to sort them out. It's probably sorely needed anyway."

He blanched slightly. "Tonight? It's already late."

"Yes, well, it'll be later since you just set us back."

"How much later? I have classes in the morning!"

"Half an hour. And you will turn up early on Friday." She felt extremely fair.

"Deal, I suppose."

She snorted and began climbing a ladder off to the left.

"What are you doing?" He actually looked confused.

"Do you honestly think you'll ever be done on your own?"

"Oh, so now you can help?"

"Don't be such a pain. I would've helped from the start if you hadn't annoyed me."

"Look at who _does_ get off on her power..."

"Shut up and start sorting, Malfoo—oh!" She'd attempted to angrily turn while she spoke to him and it had made the ladder wobble dangerously.

Oh, how she hated heights even on the best of days. But she wasn't so much of a coward that she couldn't climb a damn ladder.

"Look out or you'll fall," he lazily said, leaning against a bookcase, merely watching her.

And they said chivalry was dead.

"Hold on to it!" she commanded, very conscious that it was wobbling a bit again.

"Isn't it a bit counter-productive if I'm only holding ladders?"

"No, I find it vastly more productive than you merely _standing_ there."

He shrugged and came over to loosely hold on to the ladder. "I'm not catching you if you fall."

"Oh, you'll catch me," she replied. "Or you'll risk it going on your record that you were responsible for it."

"I'm not responsible for anything!" he indignantly said.

"Yeah, that's the conclusion people will jump to!"

He growled. "If that's how everyone will feel, then why don't I just—"

He didn't get to finish his sentence, because the unthinkable happened and her foot slipped. She wildly grasped for some kind of hold and was unfortunate enough to get it. With all of her weight yanking down on her wrist, she felt something give and then there was pain.


	3. Chapter 3

Draco had had a prime view of Hermione's bottom from where he was holding the ladder. He was quite certain she knew that. She was wearing barely decent underwear under her skirt, he'd soon discovered. Or, rather, he supposed it was decent enough, but there was something about the way the fabric only partially covered her backside that was oddly mesmerising.

That, and the lace was awfully pretty.

Yeah, that was the reason he was staring.

When she fell, he thought it was another one of her antics, and he prepared to catch her, only to see her frantically grab hold of a step, resulting in a sickening sound. She cried out and almost immediately let go again, but had already gained hold with her other hand and feet and didn't fall.

It didn't seem like her to miss such a splendid opportunity to get up close and personal.

"Are you all right?" he asked, when she merely stood there and didn't move.

"I'm fine," she muttered.

He couldn't quite see, but she seemed to be cradling her hand.

"Did you hurt that?" he asked, nodding towards her hand, even though she couldn't see.

She slowly nodded. "I think so."

"Well, then you aren't fine, are you?"

She glared down at him. "I didn't break my neck—I consider that a fortune."

"What are you on about? I would've caught you."

She snorted. "Right." Then she began an awkward one-handed climb down.

He scowled at her back. She was always such a bloody martyr. “Why wouldn’t I? You were completely right about how people would see it if you got hurt.”

“I did get hurt.”

“Not through any fault of mine!”

She took the last step down and glared at him. “Except that you’re impossible to trust and that's why it happened.”

"Yes, you being stupid is completely my fault. Hospital wing, then?"

She wrinkled her nose, looking down at the hand she was holding protectively against her chest. "Nah... I mean... It hurts, but I don't think I broke anything."

"Let me have a look at it." He reached out.

She immediately stepped back, eyeing him suspiciously. "I don't think so."

And yet she thought she'd be able to sleep with him? He shook his head at the sheer lack of logic. "What exactly do you think I'm going to do, Granger?"

"I don't know. Relish my pain?"

"I can do that without touching you."

"You can't magnify it without touching me."

He wearily rubbed the area between his eyes that had begun to ache. "Granger, I can't fucking harm you and you know that. If I have as much as a bad _thought_ , they'll stick me in Azkaban for the rest of my life."

She slowly nodded in acknowledgement of that. "But you have to admit it's suspicious when you all of a sudden offer to do something that could be viewed as nice or helpful."

"Why? You're evaluating me. If I help you, that'll mean a better evaluation, right?"

She still looked suspicious but only hesitated slightly in holding out her hand.

He grabbed the wrist, noticing her wince, and pushed the hand slightly backwards, making her cry out.

She tore her hand out of his grasp. "You did that on purpose!"

"I barely even moved it, Granger. And it's already beginning to swell. It might not be broken, but you really should go to the hospital wing."

"Fine," she muttered. "I'll go. But for your information, it doesn't look good that the first night you're helping me, I have to go to the hospital wing."

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you. It's all my fault. Are we going?" He began walking without making sure she was with him.

She only hesitated a few seconds before catching up with him. "I didn't say it's all your fault. I said it looks bad. People might think I'm trying to protect you."

He snorted. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I'm that kind of ninny."

"Ninny?"

She nodded enthusiastically and he noticed that her cheeks were flaming and her eyes were shiny. Her wrist must really hurt. "Yes, I'm extremely easy to persuade to not report someone. I have an unwavering faith in humanity."

"And that makes you a ninny?"

"Yes, of course. Humanity includes you."

He glared at her. "I know you're in pain, Granger, but could you stop with the pissy comments? I didn't actually do anything!"

She blushed even more. "You're right, I'm sorry. But in my defence, you were much more fun when you used to give as good as you got."

"I know." He sighed wistfully. "I miss being able to insult all of you plonkers without any repercussions."

"You can insult me," she offered. "I won't tell anyone."

"Yeah... not going to take that chance. Sorry." Too much was at stake. He might regret not being able to call her names, but that was far preferable over going to Azkaban because of his 'attitude'.

She pouted. "No fun. You won't sleep with me and you won't even insult me."

It was his turn to blush. She certainly had a way with words sometimes. "Then maybe you should go look for a bloke that will do both if that's what gets you off."

She actually cracked a small smile before going back to looking displeased. "I think I'll take one _or_ the other."

He didn't reply but merely shouldered the door to the hospital wing open. With any luck, this wouldn't take too long and he'd be allowed to go to bed soon.

* * *

Hermione eyed the wrist splint she'd been saddled with and deepened her everlasting pout. You'd think they could make the pain immediately go away with magic.

"Oh, come off it, Granger," Malfoy said, seeing the look on her face. "It'll be gone in a few days."

"It's my right hand!" she whinged. "I can't take notes like this."

He rolled his eyes at her. "So you won't take notes for a couple of classes. You'll live."

She knew he was right, but she felt like being surly so she merely scowled at him.

"All right," he said, getting up from the chair where he'd been sat all through her treatment. "You'll live and I trust you don't actually think I had a part in your clumsy adventure."

She pursed her lips. "Of course you had a part in this."

He stopped dead to stare at her. "You can't be serious."

"I am. I'll be sure to tell the Headmistress all about it."

His jaw tightened. "You'd really do that?"

"Of course. She needs to know that you examined it, talked me into going to the hospital wing, and even walked me here and stayed with me."

He stared at her as if unsure what to make of her story. "Of course I did! I couldn't risk pissing you off."

"You could've shrugged and walked off and you know it."

"Not when I could risk being blamed for your injury."

"Oh, shut up, Malfoy. It's not such a bad thing to be a decent human being."

"But... I'm not!"

"Right."

"Right!"

"Of course," she patiently agreed.

"That's what I said!"

"I'm not contradicting you."

"You're humouring me and that's even worse!" He was beginning to look downright distressed.

She sniggered. "Wouldn't dream of it."

He frowned at her and then without another word turned on his heel and left the room.

Hermione couldn't help but laugh out loud.

* * *

Draco managed to have an _almost_ Granger-free weekend—how that happened, he wasn't quite certain, other than she’d cancelled Friday’s work—but Sunday afternoon, she found him again. She was still wearing her wrist splint and a skirt he would mostly describe as _perky_.

"Can I count on you tonight?" she asked without preamble.

"Uh, for what?"

She pursed her lips. "I was thinking library duty, but that's negotiable..."

He mentally groaned and reminded himself not to give her any openings. "Sunday isn't one of my days. I'm supposed to report in Tuesday and Friday."

"Technically, I decide when you're supposed to report in. And I'm having problems doing the work with this hand."

"So... it's an order?"

"It's a request."

"I can turn it down?" he asked, ever the optimist.

"You can. But your review would suffer from it."

"So what you're trying to say is that I only have the pretence of a choice?"

"That's fairly accurate."

He sighed. "See you after dinner, then."

* * *

"You know, Granger..." Malfoy said after they'd been at the library a few minutes. "If you keep wearing those skirts, you're going to catch a cold. I promise you, I've already seen your legs."

Hermione hid a smirk, slowly climbing up to put a single book away. She'd noticed him more than _seeing_ her legs. His fascination was her entire reason to keep wearing skirts. "Don't worry, Malfoy. I’ve not caught a cold in ages. I exercise, eat my vegetables, and make sure to catch a bit of sun whenever it's available. You can look at my legs without concern for my health."

"You honestly think that your legs are sexy enough to convince me?"

She climbed down and turned towards him, noticing how he wasn't looking at her but seemed very concentrated on reading some titles. He couldn't even look at her?

"Why, Malfoy..." she purred, "are you saying I have sexy legs?"

His cheeks pinkened, although Hermione noted that the blush was less severe than she was used to. Aww. Her effect on him was wearing off.

"I think you know exactly how appealing your legs are; why else would you flaunt them?" he bit out.

She'd never given them much thought, really. She was only flaunting them because it worked. She cocked her head. "How about my breasts, then?"

That startled him enough that he looked at her. "Excuse me?"

"I showed them to you. Did you like them? Are they too big? Too small? How about the nipples? Too dark? Too big? Not big enough?"

"I didn't notice." He looked away again.

"You want me to refresh your memory?"

" _No!_ " He stared at her. "Seriously, Granger! Have you no shame?"

"Not in my body, no. Bodies are perfectly natural. Besides, I feel like I maintain mine to the best of my abilities. There are, however, certain things that are outside of my control—my nipple size, for instance."

He kept staring at her for a few moments where she merely blithely smiled back before he blinked and shook his head. "For what it's worth, you're embarrassing _me_."

"I know. But I also know I arouse you."

"I told you that blokes can't control that."

"How much do you want to bet that I could show Harry my legs without him raising a tent in his trousers? Besides, I've kept an eye on the other young wizards I've come across lately. Some look—well, most do, actually—but very few show visual signs of arousal."

"And do you show these other wizards your diddies and throw yourself at them every chance you get?"

Hermione sniggered. "I love it when you show your claws, Malfoy."

"Fuck you, Granger."

"That's what I'm trying to get you to do..."

He roughly inserted the last book he was holding and turned to face her. "Don't you get it? Even if we did do it, it would be cold and impersonal. Why do you want that?"

"Never mind why, but it _is_ what I want." Somehow, she didn't feel like telling him about Ron and her decision.

He snorted. "It's never what girls want."

She raised an eyebrow. "That's funny, coming from someone who's supposedly been with a lot of girls."

"Let me put it this way, then—I don't need for you to have regrets and let my evaluation suffer for it."

"That's not a concern."

"For me it is."

She shook her head, trying to squash the excitement of this sounding an awful lot like negotiation. He had so many different excuses to turn her down. "No, it's not. I'd never let those things influence each other."

"Dragon dung. You let all kinds of other crap influence you."

"I'll write your evaluation first if that changes your mind."

"It doesn't."

She sighed. Of course not. "Then why are we having this discussion?"

"We aren't."

"You could've fooled me."

He didn't reply but merely scowled at her.

His stubbornness really wasn't very titillating. "Look, Draco," she said, intentionally switching to his first name, hoping he’d read sincerity into it. "If you really don't want anything to do with me, then what's the problem? I'm not out to rape you in some dark hallway."

He shot her another dark glance. "You sure about that?"

"No, I accidentally rape boys all the time!" she snapped.

He snorted again. It really wasn't a polite sound.

"I hate to break it to you, Draco," she added, "but you're not _that_ irresistible. I'll eventually get bored and find someone less prudish."

"And how long till that happens?" he asked.

She couldn't prevent the small twitch of her lips. "A rough estimate will be shortly after you stop ogling me and licking your lips whenever you see bare skin."

"I don't do that!"

"Uh-huh. Yes, you do."

He sneered and went to get more books.

* * *

Her shirts had become lower cut. She really was asking for a cold. Fortunately, Draco at least didn't have to look at it during classes because of the mandatory school robes. He'd never loved the robes as much as he did these days. How would he ever get any schoolwork done if she was sitting there next to him, flaunting her breasts and rubbing those bare thighs against his?

Granger, of course, seemed to think that this was all some great joke. She could barely look at him without laughing at his plight.

He currently had a theory that she didn’t actually want to sleep with him at all. She was working some elaborate scheme to embarrass him as much as possible as some kind of petty revenge for everything he’d ever done to her and her friends.

Or maybe she was merely playing him for her own amusement.

Of course, maybe she really was out to get laid, but she was still bad news. She was working from a position of spite and couldn’t be trusted not to try to find his secrets and use them against him. She could hardly get him thrown in Azkaban for most of the things he was hiding, but she _could_ make him the laughing stock of Hogwarts. That wasn’t something he was interested in.

So Tuesday night, he did his damnedest not to ogle her inviting thighs or cleavage, and by the next Friday night he’d even somewhat mastered his blushes, to her very obvious great chagrin.

If he could keep this up, she would leave him alone in no time.

* * *

Hermione felt like she was floating along the hallway. This had been the best idea she’d had in a while. In fact, it had been the only _good_ idea she’d had for weeks.

The Malfoy thing certainly was a disaster. He seemed to become more and more immune to her advances with each passing day and she hadn’t even got a good snog out of him yet! It was fairly depressing.

In comparison, getting drunk—or at least very tipsy—at the unauthorised party she’d come across quite by accident really was the plan of the year.

True, she should probably have reported every single participant there and confiscated all the alcohol, but why would she do that? She’d broken a fair few rules herself over the years and a party was as harmless as could be.

Besides, she’d hoped that some bloke might take advantage of her. Make Malfoy superfluous. But no such luck. Mallory had been there, but apparently he now had a girlfriend. Too bad. He really was cute. As for the rest of the boys... she supposed one or two had eyed her, but nobody had been aggressive enough and she was _tired_ of taking all the initiative. Was it really too much to ask that every once in a while the _boy_ would initiate contact?

Sighing, she decided to pass by the library. Drunk or not, she was very awake and if she put the last of the books away tonight, she could take it easy tomorrow.

In a few weeks, either Madam Pince would be back or the Headmistress would hire a real temporary replacement. Hermione didn’t mind the work so much, though. They were actually compensating her a little bit for her time and it was always nice with some extra pocket money.

Humming, she entered the library, but then stopped and frowned. Something was off. Why were there lights and parchment on the table? She’d closed the library herself, and who’d sneak in at off hours on a _Saturday_?

The answer appeared from behind a bookcase and then froze, staring at her.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Malfoy. It’s after-hours, you know.”

“Uh, yeah...” he muttered. “Figured there had to be some perks to constantly sorting this place. I'm behind on an essay.”

“It’s Saturday night! Don’t you have better things to do?”

“Don’t you?” he shot back.

She snorted. He wasn’t going to get her with that. Not today. “I already saw to that,” she said, making a flourish that started out all right, but ended with her stumbling a bit and giggling.

He stared at her again. “Uh, right. I can see that. Maybe I did too.”

“Did you have sex?” she immediately asked.

He groaned. “I thought you said you were going to spare me that.”

“Spare you what? Why would I spare you of anything?"

“You said that whole jealousy thing wouldn't happen,” he elaborated.

“Oh.” She laughed. “It’s not a jealousy thing. I was hoping you might share some details with me.”

“Why would I do that, Granger?”

“Because I need to learn somehow, and the whole male student body is entirely uncooperative.”

He muttered something under his breath that she couldn’t really decipher, even though she strained to hear it, and then a little louder said, “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“No, it is!” She put on her best pout and carefully began moving towards him. “Everyone is so passive, Malfoy. All I want is for someone, anyone, to reach out and touch me. But nobody ever does.”

He shook his head. “That’s not all you want and you know it.”

“But it is,” she insisted. “I just want to be touched.” She’d reached him and slowly raised her hand and put it on his chest. “Like this. See?”

He didn't move away from her, but he wasn't acting very encouraging either. “You wouldn’t stop there.”

She worried her lower lip for a few seconds, giving the pretence of considering his words, before she nodded. “You’re right. I’d probably like a kiss as well. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been kissed?”

He didn’t answer right away but merely looked at her. After a while, she thought he wouldn’t answer at all, but then he sighed. “Let me guess—sometime before you came back here for your seventh year.”

She nodded again. “Exactly. That’s more than six months, Malfoy! My body is lonely.”

“I don’t doubt that. But you wouldn’t stop there either.”

She glanced up at his eyes to gauge his mood, but found it tremendously hard to read him right now. She took a deep breath. “If I promised to stop there, would you indulge me?”

“What do you mean?”

“If I promised to not push for more tonight, would you kiss me?”

He frowned. “You'd only stop for the night?”

“You can’t ask me to stop altogether, Malfoy. After all, you have the cutest arse in Arithmancy.”

He shot her an exasperated look.

She sighed, disappointment and resignation stealing all of her energy and leaving her with no will to play this game any longer. “It was worth a tr—mmpf!” She stared up at him. He’d covered her mouth with his hand and was intently staring at the door. She didn’t quite understand that reaction. Had he heard something? He was in violation of the rules, but she wasn’t, and she’d merely say she’d asked him to help here tonight, so what was the problem?

“Come on,” he muttered, grabbing her arm and dragging her deeper into the library.

“There’s really no reason to fear getting caught,” she said, still puzzled.

He stopped when they’d reached one of the more obscure corners and turned to face her. “Yes, there is,” he said.

And then he grabbed her shoulders and covered her lips with his own. 

Hermione felt a shock go through her, starting at her lips and ending at the tips of her toes. It was a good shock. The kind that left you slightly breathless and excited for more.

If this was tipsy kissing, she saw no reason to ever be sober again.

* * *

Draco knew he'd made a bad decision before he was even certain he'd go through with it.

He shouldn't kiss her. It would only encourage her to go for more and cause him endless grief and embarrassment—not to mention inconvenient unfulfilled arousal.

Yet she'd seemed halfway human for once and all this playing nice must be getting to him, because he'd reacted to the vulnerability like he hadn't reacted to anything else she'd ever said or done.

Or maybe he was simply getting off on Harry Potter's little Muggle-born friend being at his mercy.

Either way, he was currently pressed against a warm, soft body, kissing even warmer, softer lips and it was surprisingly nice.

Nice wouldn't do, not at all. He could only imagine his own frustration if she decided that this wasn't a one-off. The way she was eagerly pressing against him was already doing a number on his self-control. No, he needed to convince her—if not himself—that this was better not repeated.

Maybe by introducing some crude reality into the mix?

He began pushing her backwards and she willingly followed. He used unnecessary force to push her against the nearest bookcase, but she didn't even flinch. She merely put her arms around his neck and raised her leg to rub it against the outside of his thigh.

It was all he could do not to purr. He might have been snogged more than her in the past six months, but anything more than that had been sorely lacking, and she was so damn inviting.

It was time to turn it up a notch.

He grabbed her arse and hoisted her up far enough to be able to comfortably grope her breast. This elicited a surprised gasp from her and he expected her to shove him away, but she didn't. Instead she merely bit her lip and arched into his hand.

Torture. Why of all the girls that could act like this did it have to be _her_?

He couldn't take much more of this. He was already aroused and knew she could feel it. He was touching so much soft flesh, and she didn't seem to mind at all. His hand on her arse had moved under her skirt and was tracing the lacy edge of her knickers. He wondered whether she would object if they dipped inside to explore for a bit but had a very ominous feeling that she wouldn't.

She would let him touch her whilst squirming and moaning and inviting him to go further.

This was bad. On top of everything, he had very vivid mental images of her breasts, her thighs and her arse going through his mind over and over and over again.

"Why not simply go for it?" she whispered, drawing him in to kiss him again. He shivered. He wanted to.

He couldn't. He broke free. "You're drunk," he tamely said.

"So? You don't care and neither do I." She nibbled at his earlobe and for a second his eyes actually rolled back.

"I... can't... afford..." he stammered.

"I told you, it's not an issue," she muttered against his collarbone, sending delicious vibrations through him.

"It is."

She shook his head so her hair tickled his cheek. "No, it's really not. I've written nothing but praise about you so far and this won't change that."

He drew back. "I thought you weren't going to push for more if I kissed you."

She groaned. "That's so mean."

"This doesn't say a lot about your ability to stick to a deal."

"Hey, I didn't pester you about it. I only asked why you didn't go for it," she objected.

"Uh-huh."

She pouted. "Fine... We'll keep it to whatever you want to do."

"I want to stop now."

"Are you certain?" Her hands were caressing his neck and her voice was so bloody throaty and sexy that he wanted to gag her. "I wouldn't mind more kissing."

He had to clench his jaw to keep his reactions to a minimum and then let go of her assets to grab her hands and remove them from his skin. "We both know that if it were up to you, we wouldn't ever stop."

"Of course we would. We'd need sustenance, after all."

"Granger..."

"Please use my given name after snogging me."

"Hermione... I'm... not interested. At all. Please give it up."

"You say that, but it doesn't seem to register with the rest of your body."

" _Involuntary reaction._ "

"I was talking about your pupils, Draco. They dilate whenever you look at me. Say whatever you want, but that tends to mean want."

"Of course I _want_ you; look at how you're inviting me!"

"Then what's the problem?"

"I..." He faltered. It was too damn embarrassing. "My body might want you, but my mind doesn't."

"Then what does it take to change your mind?"

"I don't want it changed."

She smiled. "Then we're at odds, because I do."

* * *

The next morning, Hermione staggered down to breakfast. She didn’t feel sick, per se, but she was parched and had what felt like a dehydration headache.

But at least Malfoy would snog her when she was drunk. She should remember that for another time. And maybe also remember to drink a large glass of water before bed.

She blindly sat down in her usual spot and began loading food onto her plate. She barely even registered that someone sat down next to her.

“Well, you look like shite today,” Ginny said by way of greeting.

Hermione snorted. No doubt. “Eventful night.”

“Yeah, I heard about the party. Shame on you, Head Girl.” She sounded amused rather than censorious.

“I get that a lot. So, what’s the occasion?”

“For what?”

“For you to sit down with me. That hasn’t happened often since... you know...” It wasn’t that Hermione blamed Ginny for withdrawing a bit after Hermione and Ron had officially broken up, but it did make this encounter stand out.

Ginny picked at some toast. “We’re still friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course.”

“But I was kind of wondering...”

“Yes?”

“I don’t know. Harry has sent me some odd letters. Says that Ron is acting strangely, writing a lot of letters and tearing them up, obsessively checking for owls whilst muttering that this time he’s really done for and you’ll never forgive him.”

Hermione sighed. This would have to be the topic she least wanted to get into. “That’s personal, Ginny.”

“I know. I even thought you were done months ago. But can’t you give me something to tell Harry?”

“Why? So he can tell Ron? I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”

“What did Ron do?”

“I’m not telling you.”

Ginny shook her head and picked some more at her toast. “It doesn’t even matter. I’m sure it was something incredibly stupid. Just remember that in his own thick-skulled way, he loves you. And he’s a good person.”

“I know.”

“But it doesn’t matter?”

“I think I... need to see other people for a while.”

“Fair enough. Can I tell Harry that?”

“All right.”

Ginny nodded and then she was off again.

* * *

“Draco, I have to ask you something,” Pansy said without preamble.

“Shh! This is the library!”

She snorted. “And Madam Pince is out sick; everyone knows that. Since when are you at the library this early in the morning, anyway?”

Since he’d figured Granger and her distracting body would be sleeping it off. But saying that really wasn’t an option. “What do you want, Pansy?”

“I want to know why you’re avoiding me.”

“I’m not avoiding you.” Yes, he was. But only because her misplaced guilt for dumping him for Theodore Nott was becoming increasingly awkward.

“You are! And what’s this I hear about you and Granger?”

“All lies, I’m sure.” He faked boredom and returning to read his book.

“She sits next to you in class. Even I have seen that. It’s kind of creepy.”

He twitched. Granger was really out to ruin his reputation. “It’s her way of messing with me. She’s evaluating me, you know, and sees that as her cue to try to make me as uncomfortable as possible.”

“I was told you were exchanging notes the other day. What are you _doing_?” She crossed her arms and stared at him, accusation all over her face.

“Might as well get some use out of her brains whilst she’s harassing me, no?” He tried to shrug it off but even a glance at Pansy’s unaltered stance told him that it wasn’t working.

“Uh-huh. She’s Muggle-born, Draco! I can set you up with some Pure—“

“No, thank you,” he cut her off. “And I’m not doing anything with her, either. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Pansy snorted. “Don’t give me that. Everyone knows you’ve been thinking with your dick since we broke up.”

“Yeah? And why would my dick think of Granger?” He suppressed another wince. His dick _did_ in fact think of Granger from time to time, but how could it not with all her antics?

Pansy pursed her lips and got a very calculating look on her face. “You do seem to fancy the waif-like ones.”

“Waif-like?”

“Yes. Don’t deny it.”

“I don’t see how Granger fits that bill. She actually has curves and some leftover tan from summer. Also, do waifs have quite that many freckles?” Freckles that went down to her chest. And possibly other places. For a brief moment he even tried to recall her thighs, to see if he could remember any freckles there.

“Ah-hah! You’ve noticed her body!” She got an extremely triumphant look on her face.

He couldn’t help the laugh. “Pansy... I hate to be the one to tell you this, but most of us blokes take the measurements of anyone walking past us in the hallway. It’s nothing personal or even something that means we’re interested; it’s simply what we do.”

“Let me count the ways to be sexist...” she muttered. “Okay, fine. I’m just telling you she’s bad news. She could ruin your reputation, your credentials, your prospects, _everything_. If she got mad at you for anything you’d done, perceived or real, she could destroy your entire future. Not merely because she’s a Muggle-born, but because she’s one of _them_.”

And this was precisely why he couldn’t rebuff her more forcefully. “Is this some kind of alternate reality where you didn’t leave me to go bonk Theo?”

“You’re so crude.”

“And I’m also right. We’re not together any longer. You lost the prerogative to tell me what to do about other girls.”

“I care about you.”

“But I don’t care what you have to say. So please shut up and leave me alone.”

She didn’t reply but merely stared at him for a few seconds before she turned on her heel and left.

So maybe he still had some issues with how they’d broken up. Besides, her constant attempts to mother and pander to him to ease her own guilty conscience were annoying him like nothing else.


	4. Chapter 4

Feeling slightly more human after breakfast, Hermione went to the library. She didn’t really need to go, but it was her safe place. A place where she could be largely alone without ever feeling the same kind of loneliness she did in her room. She especially liked being in the back, surrounded by knowledge everywhere.

“ _She’s bad news._ ”

Hermione stopped at the sound of Pansy Parkinson’s voice, telling someone all the ways that some Muggle-born could ruin their life.

She had a fairly good idea who Pansy was talking about and who she was talking to. It was soon confirmed when she heard his voice.

Was this really how they saw her? As some big threat? Bigoted reasons aside, Pansy seemed genuinely concerned that she might become vindictive towards Malfoy. Come to think of it, Malfoy kept saying the same things.

The conversation seemed to be over and Hermione had to duck in between bookcases in order to avoid the rapid footsteps moving towards her.

Now what to do? Malfoy hadn’t agreed openly with Pansy, but maybe that was simply because he’d been annoyed with her. He’d certainly sounded that way. Hermione would never abuse her position the way it had been implied time and again that she would, but if Malfoy thought she would and that was the only reason he’d kissed her...

The kiss. He’d given every indication that he didn’t want to do it and didn’t want to continue it. Oh, she’d been so stupid. If the roles had been reversed, she would have hexed his bits off. The only thing keeping him from doing something similar must be fear of the repercussions.

Now she did feel some of the shame Draco had wanted her to feel earlier. She hadn’t taken his objections seriously at the time and had basically harassed him. She was also disappointed. How could she continue her pursuit like this? She couldn’t. She had to stop. She hadn’t meant to hurt anyone.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped out from between the stacks of books and walked towards where the steps had originated a few minutes ago.

“Malfoy?” she said when his back came into her vision a few seconds later.

He immediately stiffened and she flinched.

“Yeah?” he cautiously asked without turning.

“I’m... I’m sorry about last night,” she muttered. “I’d like to blame the alcohol, but we both know that wouldn’t be true.”

Now he did slowly turn. “You’re apologising? Why?”

“I didn’t mean to force you.”

“I don’t recall you holding me down.”

“There are other ways to force...”

“So you heard her, huh.” He didn’t seem overly surprised.

She flushed. She hadn’t meant to be eavesdropping, after all. “She didn’t say anything you’ve not already tried to say to me.”

“Except she vastly exaggerated.”

“Maybe an exaggeration was what I needed to hear.”

He turned back to his homework and wearily rubbed the spot between his eyes with two fingers. “Far be it from me to encourage you to continue to torment me, Granger, but you didn’t force me last night.”

Maybe it was a male pride thing? “All right. But I’ll take a hint and back off. When I ignore your wishes like that, it’s almost sexual assault.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Almost?”

“Yes, almost. You’re fairly aggressive yourself, so unless you want to admit to assaulting half the female population around here...”

“Almost it is, then!”

“I thought so.”

* * *

“So... you’re really going to stop?” Draco asked when Granger didn’t seem inclined to continue talking.

“I’ll even wear trousers.”

He pondered that for a bit. He should be relieved, but he kind of liked looking at her legs. True, it left him far too frustrated to be comfortable, but those were _nice_ legs. “Good,” he said without conviction.

“And I’ll remember to wear a bra every day.”

“I... don’t think I noticed if you didn’t.” Which was odd. He usually noticed if someone’s breasts bounced like that. He couldn’t see how he could’ve missed it.

“Oh, that mostly happens in the summer. It gets so hot.”

“Uh-huh.” He shifted his legs a bit so she wouldn’t see how she was beginning to affect him again. He suddenly missed summertime.

“And I won’t try to show off that new set of black lace underwear I got with garters and—”

“No need to be so specific!”

She grinned impishly. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

He could picture it a bit too vividly. How could the Head Girl fool everyone into thinking she was the epitome of virtue when she was really so, so naughty? “You can wear anything you like,” he finally said.

“Of course I _can_ , but—”

“I’m not saying you should keep wearing skimpy clothes. I’m saying, wear whatever comes natural to you. It’s not like I’m allergic to your legs and will perish if you wear a skirt even once.”

“But that’s the thing, Malfoy. Around you, I’m going to want to show off skin to seduce you.”

“Why? Why me?” He really didn’t understand this. Why must she torment him so?

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I find you sexy.”

“What?” He stared. His heart had begun pounding and he felt some of that blood flood into his cheeks. Damn it! Damn _her_! He’d thought he’d learned to master these blushes!

“Why so surprised?”

“You’re taking the piss, aren’t you?”

“No, Draco, I’m really not. You’re like the ultimate fantasy. The experienced Bad Boy, who’ll love you and leave you, thus introducing no reality into the mix.”

He groaned aloud. Just with words, she had once again managed to get him going, but there was one word in her last statement that made it all impossible, even if other circumstances had made it possible. One word. His constant curse.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, cocking her head.

“I can’t do it. I can’t sleep with you.”

“I know. That’s why I said I’d stop.”

But he didn’t want her to!

The realisation left him a little disoriented. If he didn’t want her to stop, then why... had he wanted her to stop? He knew he couldn’t sleep with her and being around her made him frustrated like nothing else could.

He supposed it could be an ego thing. It was nice to have a girl call him sexy and try to seduce him, even if it frustrated him to no end. It certainly didn’t hurt that he really wanted her body and had dozens of fantasies about what he’d like to do with it. Fantasies he couldn’t seem to squash.

“Last night...” he hesitantly began.

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“No. Last night... you said something.”

“What?”

“That we could just do what I wanted to do and nothing more.”

“Yes? What about that?”

“Are you...” He hesitated, unsure whether he was opening himself up to a world of trouble. “Are you still up to that?”

* * *

Hermione’s eyes widened and she swallowed? Had he asked what she thought he’d asked? The tingle in her entire body suggested yes. “Why?” she croaked and then cleared her throat. “I mean... is this merely you trying to be in charge?”

“No sex, Hermione. No exclusive relationship. And if I tell you not to touch me in a certain way or _not_ sit next to me in class, you will do that—although if you should feel like helping me with a few assignments in private, I certainly wouldn’t turn that down.”

“That doesn’t accomplish my goal of losing my virginity.”

“No... Not technically. But I have a feeling it’s better that way. Besides, I said this isn’t exclusive. You’re free to lose it to someone else on the side. This thing... is only if you tell the truth and you actually _want_ to.”

She was tempted. Really tempted. But she didn’t cherish the idea of letting Draco call the shots. Still... she could get some of what she wanted for a relatively small price. And she could always end it if he was too controlling. “Fine,” she finally said. “But only if you agree to a few terms of my own.”

“Like what?”

“Like I have a say in when and where. And you don’t cancel our meetings to be with other girls at those times. Schedule around it.”

“Girls really don’t like to come second, do they? I, for one, won’t care if you cancel to be with another bloke.”

“Good to know.”

“But, Granger?”

“Yeah?”

“No sex. I mean it.”

She pursed her lips and nodded. One of these days she really had to get him to give her a straight answer about why he was so insistent on not having sex. For now, however, she was pleased at the prospect of at least not being completely rejected.

* * *

Hermione wrinkled her nose and looked around at the old dilapidated office. It didn’t look like it had been used for years or cleaned for months.

“I have a private room, you know,” she said. “And it’s outside the tower. Anyone I invite can enter.”

“I know. We aren’t going to your room,” Draco said, closing the door behind them.

“Why not?”

“Because your room has a bed, and I’m not quite certain you understand what _no sex_ means yet.”

She had no intention of ever understanding that. She’d been prepared to drop her pursuit, but the very fact that he’d wanted to keep her going like this definitely turned his 'no' into a 'maybe'. And everyone knew what 'maybe' meant.

“I understand what it means,” was, however, what she said.

“The words, possibly, but you’re one stubborn witch.”

She ignored his statement and moved towards the old, beaten sofa. “We sit on this?” She brought her hand down on the backrest and a pile of dust rose. She wrinkled her nose. Oh, how lovely. This wasn’t seedy at all. She wasn’t even going to think about what the stains on that sofa were from—or who.

“No. I don’t think you can handle that yet either.”

She raised an eyebrow and turned back towards him. “I can’t _handle_ it?”

”Anywhere we can lie down is off-limits today.”

She snorted. “Then I suppose the floor is too?”

“Lying on it is, yes. Come here.”

She glanced at him. There was something about the way he looked at her whilst beckoning her to come closer. It was thrilling and a little bit scary. “You really like telling me what to do, don’t you?”

“Every second of it, yes.”

“So, are you saying you’d consider—”

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish!”

“I know what you were going to ask, and the answer is still no. It’s not your submission or lack thereof that’s the deal-breaker.”

“But there is one?” she had to ask.

“Yes.”

She mulled that over for a second. “Do me a favour.”

“What?”

“If the deal-breaker has anything at all to do with your bigotry, never tell me. Think of a pretty and believable lie.”

He slowly shook his head without even breaking eye contact for a second. “It doesn’t.”

“Yes, that’s a start.”

He shot her an exasperated glance. “Did you come here to talk or to snog?”

He was right. She was procrastinating. Mentally grabbing a firm hold of her own neck and guiding herself towards him, she gave him a wicked smile.

He pursed his lips in what looked like wry amusement. “For a second there, I thought you were going to act like a normal girl.”

“And how’s that?” she asked, sliding her hands around his neck to link them behind his head, refusing to feel awkward about it.

“Hesitant. Shy. Embarrassed.” He looked down at her. “But you don’t actually know any of those feelings, do you?”

“Life’s too short to feel embarrassed about wanting something.” She unlinked her hands and let them skim down his collarbones to his chest and was about to start some fun exploration, when he grabbed them and held them away from his body.

“No touching,” he said.

She blinked. “No touching at all?”

He shook his head. “Only kissing, no touching.”

“That sounds boring.”

“Only if you do it wrong. Now shut up.”

Then he grabbed her neck and kissed her.

Apparently, it wasn’t only tipsy kissing that could get her blood boiling. His lips were warm and his breath was hot, but why it would light a bonfire in her, she wasn’t certain. Maybe it was this thing called chemistry. She’d never even considered that she might have it with Draco Malfoy, but in a way it made sense. He was everything that was wrong and off-limits.

He broke the kiss. “What’s wrong? I thought this was what you wanted.”

It was. “Don’t you feel it?” she asked.

“Feel what?”

“I don’t know what to call it. The... explosions.”

“Explosions? Have you lost it?” He shook his head as if to dismiss the notion, but his eyes were burning in the same way her body was.

“When we kiss... It’s intense.”

“Doesn’t mean anything.”

Was he afraid she might want it to mean something else? Now it was her turn to shake her head and pull his head down for another kiss. She seemed to take him by surprise, because he stumbled a little before catching himself and his lips was slightly parted. He’d kissed her quite skilfully last time at the library—soft and hard, nipping, caressing, and slightly sucking on her lips—but he hadn’t used his tongue or allowed hers to enter his mouth. Not for a second.

She wanted that so badly. She hoped he wasn’t the kind of person who simply didn’t enjoy that kind of kissing because it would kill her.

Quickly, before he could get his bearing back, she allowed the tip of her tongue to shoot out and caress the inside of his lip, afraid to go further in case he decided to use his teeth on her.

He froze.

She couldn’t decide whether that was a good thing, so she tried making another quick sweep, barely grazing the tip of _his_ tongue. The contact sent a jolt of pure, raw sexual energy through her.

He broke away. “No...”

The disappointment was unwelcome but unsurprising. “You don’t like it?”

“It’s got nothing to do with _like_. Things with you tend to get a bit out of hand.”

That could win the Most Confusing Answer of the Year Award. “What kind of reply is that?”

“Don’t you think I know that you see this as yet another opportunity to try to seduce me?”

He’d have to be daft not to know that. She didn’t think he was daft. Bigoted, yes; daft, no. “You invited me here to snog, Draco. I thought that meant actual _snogging_.”

“I can’t kiss you like that when I can’t be certain that you’ll stop.”

“So you do like it?”

“I told you—that’s not really the issue here.”

She smiled, fairly certain she’d figured him out now. “Sounds to me like it is. Sounds to me like you’re saying that you like it so much that you’re afraid I’ll manage to get you into bed before you know what hit you.”

He looked away and she knew she was right. “I’m sorry, Granger. I don’t trust you.”

She merely shrugged at that. “I don’t blame you. I can’t be trusted. But I promise you that I won’t try to make you do anything if you’re in a state of mind where you’ll regret it later.”

“And what’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“I won’t push for sex when you’re in a state where you can’t clearly say yes or no.”

“And who defines that state?”

“Your eyes.”

“What?” He eyed her warily, making her smile.

“I already told you that your pupils dilate, but they also get slightly glazed when we kiss and you... enjoy it.” She loved it when he got that look in his eyes. It almost made all his silly objections worth it.

“You already know that, do you? After two kisses?”

“I’m observant.”

“Yet you don’t seem to notice it when I tell you no.”

She grinned. “I do. But your eyes say yes, so...”

He made an exasperated sound. “Do you have a handbook full of pick-up clichés or something?”

“Yes, I do. It’s called _What Men have told Women for Centuries to get into their Knickers._ ”

He actually snorted a laugh at that. “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”

“Except one thing.”

“What?”

“Why are we here? And why are you so opposed to sex with me?”

“That’s two things.” 

He was really never going to answer her questions, was he? “Smart mouth.” She pouted at him.

“You like my smart mouth.”

“I do. I only wish you’d put it to better use.”

“I’ll kiss you, Granger. And I’ll even allow some tongue if you behave. But push too hard and we stop. For good.”

She nodded. She could live with that.

Then his lips were on hers again, moving to spread her lips apart so his tongue could explore. He was being aggressive, probably testing boundaries, but by now he should know that she didn’t have that many of them. She tried to run her hands down his chest again, but he caught them and entwined their fingers, holding her hands out to each side. When she struggled to free herself, he pushed her back until he held their hands against the wall before he broke the kiss and smirked at her.

“I said no touching, Granger.”

“You’re such a pain.”

“As are you.”

“Yes, but—”

Apparently, he wasn’t interested in any more debate, because he cut her off with another kiss, and somehow struggling to free her hands didn’t really seem that important. Of course, touching him _would_ be nice, but the way he was crowding her against the wall, holding her hands in place, felt oddly exciting. Also, she could almost feel his body against hers. She arched into him, but was promptly punished by him pulling back.

“No,” he simply said.

She pouted.

“Pout all you want, Hermione. If you ever want more than this from me, you’ll have to learn to behave.”

She immediately perked up. “More? As in—”

“No. As in snogging on your bed and touching.”

Oh, well. That could work too. Besides, once touching on her bed, maybe more opportunities would open. “I’ll behave.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” He didn’t seem angry, though. If anything, he almost looked amused.

She bit her lip. She liked it when he looked amused like this. He wasn’t sneering or scoffing, but merely fighting a smile. It made him look... edible. Okay, maybe that was an odd choice of words, but right now Hermione could only think about devouring him. “You do like it when I’m a little naughty, though, don’t you?” she purred.

“I’ve never seen you be a _little_ naughty. I thought you were a good girl, and then all of a sudden you’re this... I don’t even know.”

“I got bored with being good. Good girls only get to sit around and wait for the world to throw them a bone. I’d rather be out collecting my own bones.”

“That’s a subtle euphemism if ever I heard one.”

She couldn’t help the laugh. “Well, I do want that, but snogging will do for a bit.”

He shook his head at her. “Then do shut up, it’s really hard to kiss you when you keep talking.”

So she shut up, and didn’t talk for quite a while.

Not talking could be so much more fun than she’d ever thought.

* * *

It was very, very late by the time Draco made it back to his common room. He’d had to go out in one of the courtyards to cool down after that whole snogging session and was still debating the need for a cold shower.

She’d behaved remarkably well after the initial rebellion, but as much as he’d thought he wanted her to stop talking, he’d quickly realised that nothing but snogging made for quite the hellish arousal.

He hardly knew why he’d agreed to this. It was insane. He was so frustrated he could scream, he hadn’t finished most of his homework, his lips were chapped, and he was fairly certain that he’d only encouraged Granger to push harder for sex.

Was it really worth it just to be wanted?

To be wanted like that was really quite something, though. Pansy had wanted him once, and sometimes he did come across some girls that wanted him now, but they all had inhibitions, fears about what he or the world might think of them, ideas about saving their kisses and touches for someone who’d prove themselves worthy. Granger, on the other hand, didn’t seem to give a flying fig about any of those things. She saw something she wanted and went for it. She was determined—and bossy as hell—about it and didn’t take 'no' for an answer.

Her aggression turned him on. It also put him off because it went against everything he’d been taught to value in a girl, but mostly it turned him on in a very confusing kind of way, where he never seemed to know quite what was going on.

“Look who the cat dragged in,” someone drawled the second Draco entered the common room.

Draco suppressed a groan. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing my ex right now, Theo?”

“I would,” Theo calmly replied, “but for some reason the Headmistress didn’t find ‘I need to do my girlfriend’ a valid reason to remove the anti-wizard charm on the girls’ dormitories.”

Draco noticed they weren’t alone. Goyle was sitting in an armchair, staring at both of them with his mouth semi-open and Blaise Zabini was pursing his lips, probably thinking his own thing about this exchange. Oh, brilliant. He couldn’t stand any of them. Once again he cursed the Ministry for forcing anyone from their year who wasn’t a hero in the war to redo their seventh year if they wanted the credentials. He didn’t want to be here, but so long as he was here, he’d rather _they_ weren’t here.

Besides, not that Draco cared, but he felt a flare of annoyance that he’d come off as jealous in front of all of them when he was merely annoyed at Theo’s greeting.

“It was your turn, Goyle,” Zabini said, quickly dismissing Draco.

Goyle shook his head.

“What?” Zabini scoffed. “You aren’t still a virgin, are you?”

Goyle blushed but adamantly shook his head again.

Draco raised an eyebrow. “What’s this about, then?”

Theo made a long-suffering sigh. “Blaise here decided we all had to tell him about our first time in detail. When none would comply, he gave us a rather graphic description of his own first time, and now he seems to be badgering Goyle.”

“Ah.” Draco sat down. Dislike notwithstanding, he’d like to see this.

“What about you then, Malfoy?” Zabini said. “You should have a good story.”

“Me? No comment.”

Zabini snorted. “Please. You know you want to tell.”

Draco narrowed his eyes and then smirked. Maybe he could get a little bit back at Theo. “Well, obviously it was with Pansy.”

“Obviously,” Zabini nodded. “What else?”

Draco was disappointed to see that Theo had no reaction whatsoever. “What else is there?”

“Was there blood? Did she like it? Did you last seconds or perhaps even minutes? Were you so nervous you couldn’t get going?” Apparently Zabini had given this far too much thought.

“ _Seconds_?” Draco asked. “Please tell me that’s not the typical length of first times.”

“I didn’t even make it in,” Zabini said.

“I certainly didn’t last long,” Theo remarked.

“I did,” Goyle stammered. “I couldn’t... finish.”

Draco stared and then blinked rapidly a few times when his eyes began to feel dry. “I, er, guess I averaged?” He frowned. He was coming off rather vaguely here.

“How about her?” Zabini pushed.

“What about her?”

“Did she enjoy it?”

“I... guess?”

Theo snorted. “When Pansy enjoys it, you don’t have to guess,” he said.

Zabini laughed out loud at that.

“Aren’t we being a little crude here?” Draco objected, feeling uncomfortable. “I don’t like to kiss and tell.”

Zabini rolled his eyes and got up. “None of you are any fun. None of you! I’m going to bed.”

Goyle quickly disappeared after him. Apparently the dunce had found a new ‘master’.

Theo, on the other hand, merely sat there and pursed his lips whilst watching Draco.

“What?” Draco finally irritably asked.

“I was merely thinking about what a special girl Pansy is.”

“Well, duh. Aren’t you going out with her?”

“Yes, that too, but I was thinking about something else.”

“About what?”

“About the fact that I took Pansy’s virginity and know for a fact that she didn’t sleep with you after that, so she must have had two virginities. Imagine that.”

Draco shrugged, not caring enough about his story to keep it up. “So I lied. I wasn’t going to give Zabini any real information to spread around.”

“You could’ve named any girl, yet you chose one you hadn’t slept with.”

“I was trying to mess with you and obviously failed.”

“I suppose that could be it. It could also be that a certain lie is now so pervasive that you can’t tell the truth any longer. To anyone. That’s going to become a problem for you.”

“Zabini is hardly the person to tell any kind of intimate truth under any circumstances. He’ll twist it around and find a way to use it against you, you know that as well as I do.”

“And what’s the worst that can happen from that?”

“What do you care?”

“I don’t. Not at all. But Pansy always worries about you, so I figure that if I can help fix you, you can soon be out of our lives.”

“Charming.”

“Stop lying, Draco. Use the truth to your advantage instead. It’s much simpler,” Theo said as he got up from his chair, and then he left as well.

Yeah, right. Like the truth had any kind of advantages.

* * *

Hermione did her very best to follow Draco’s rules. She really did. She didn’t sit next to him in class, she gave him stellar performance reviews for his help in the library, and she didn’t let him know exactly how restless she was to have another rendezvous with him.

She even slipped him a note, inviting him to come study at her room one afternoon with the promise that she wouldn’t try anything.

He politely declined her invitation and generally left her hanging for several days before finally asking her to come to that disgusting old office again.

She considered declining just to spite him, but then decided against it. She wanted this more than he did, so she couldn’t jeopardise her chances. Unfortunately.

So off she went. He wasn’t there yet, so she stood for a few minutes, staring at the old sofa, wondering if anyone would mind if she accidentally burned it, when he finally arrived.

“Oh, you’re already here,” he said.

“I happen to always be on time,” she absent-mindedly replied. “You’re late.”

“Sorry. Had things to do.”

“I don’t doubt it.” She bit her tongue, realising how surly she was sounding. It was counter-productive. Instead she forced a smile. “But you’re here now. So, what’s on your agenda for the evening?”

He gave her a long look before slowly smiling. “You’re pissed off.”

“No.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Of course not!”

“Why are you denying it?”

Because the second she showed herself as a human being, she knew he’d be out of there. She wasn’t through with him yet. “Because I don’t want to fight, Malfoy! I want to snog.”

“I bet I know why you won’t admit it. It’s because you think I’ll get sick of you and then cancel these meetings.”

She shrugged. “You would.”

“Of course.”

“Then why are we having this conversation?”

“Because I've now decided that I refuse to go any further until you tell me exactly why you’ll go to such lengths to keep me happy merely so I won’t cancel these meetings.” He folded his arms and leaned one shoulder against the wall, smirking at her.

“Oh, give me a break!”

His smirk widened. “I didn’t figure you’d be the kind to fancy me, Granger.”

_What?_ “I don’t fancy you.”

“Of course you don’t.”

“This plan of yours won’t work.”

“What won’t work? I figured it out!”

Her lips tightened and she glared at him. He was very clearly trying to goad the truth out of her by spewing unthinkable theories, but she wasn’t going to give in that easily.

“But,” he continued, “much as I’m flattered, I have to tell you that I’m not that interested. Don’t get me wrong, you do have a really nice body, but I need more in a witch.”

Her eyes narrowed.

He ignored it and gleefully went on. “And I’m not just talking about the blood status either. I need someone with a bit more... finesse.”

“Finesse,” she echoed, doing her very best not to strike him.

“Yes. I mean, you do have a lot of enthusiasm, I’ll grant you that, but—”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” she sputtered. “I’m only doing this because you’re the Hogwarts broom!”

“The what?”

“You know. Everyone’s had a ride.”

“Everyone’s...” His eyes widened and then narrowed, making him look almost ominous. “I see.”

“Good! Is this conversation over, then?”

“No. I still don’t know why you'd care to go after the, ah, 'Hogwarts broom'.”

“It’s personal.”

“It doesn’t really get much more personal than losing your virginity to someone, does it?”

He had a point there. She grunted. “It’s complicated.”

“I’m listening.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“I bet I wouldn’t,” he conceded. “But try me.”

“I... can’t.”

“Why not?”

“It’s stupid,” she admitted. It _was_ stupid, she knew it was stupid, she knew everyone else would find it stupid, yet she still _had_ to do it!

“If you think it’s stupid, then why are you doing it?”

“Because I have to.”

“That’s a brilliant reason to lose your virginity to someone you hate if ever I heard one.”

That made her pause and she frowned. “Hate? Why would I hate you?”

“Oh, let me count the reasons... Isn’t that simply what we do? Hate on each other.”

She shot him a confused look. Did he hate her? He wasn’t always exactly friendly, but she hadn’t detected any real venom in him lately. If he did hate her, she might actually have to reconsider her whole plan. “Maybe you do. I don’t.”

“Right. That’s why I wasn’t on your list to begin with.”

His preoccupation with not being on that list honestly spoke volumes of this supposed hate of his.

“No, that _was_ the reason,” she replied. “But then I got to thinking. Most of the things you’ve done that really made me dislike you were done when we were very young. I couldn’t hold any of that against you any longer.”

“The war wasn’t that many months ago, Granger.”

“No, but the Wizengamot decided that you deserved another chance in society and sent you here, so who am I to refuse you that second chance by continuing to judge you?”

“It’s really that easy, huh?”

“It is.”

“But why?”

“You keep asking that.”

“And you keep not answering.”

So he’d noticed that, huh? She really didn’t want to answer. “Does it actually matter? Are you going to feel guilty if you sleep with me and then realise I did it for all the wrong reasons?”

“I won’t sleep with you.”

“Then why do you need to know?”

“Because it has to be good for you to want so badly to keep it from me.”

She sighed in defeat. She had to give him something. “I need to do it to have a chance of getting back with Ron, okay?”

He looked at her for what seemed like a very long time. “So, what I’m hearing here is that the ugliest of the Weasleys—and that’s saying something—got himself a girlfriend both too clever and too pretty for him yet squandered his luck away by cheating on her, and she—and by ‘she’ I mean ‘you’ by the way—decides to make the least clever retaliation I can think of and do a good old-fashioned _quid pro quo_.”

“You don’t know everything, Malfoy.”

“No, but suddenly I know enough. Sleeping with someone else won’t make you feel better. It won’t undo what he did if you hurt him. You’ll probably even blame him for ‘making’ you do it and then you’ll resent him even more.”

How petty did he think she was? “I’m not doing any of this to get back at him! I’m doing it so virginity won’t be an issue.”

“What?”

“If neither of us are virgins any longer, I can ignore that we ever had a virginity to give. Snogging you is nice, but it’s also a way to feel like I’m at least moving towards that goal. And I think I am. I’m learning a few things about boys.”

He stared at her, slack-jawed. “That’s your fix for betrayal? Ignoring there was anything to betray in the first place?”

“No offence, Malfoy, but you’re not exactly the person I’d look to for relationship advice.”

“After this, let me tell you, the feeling is mutual. I had no idea how messed up you were.”

She looked away. She had a fairly good idea that he still didn’t have any idea exactly how messed up she was. “There, I told you what you wanted to know. Are we going to snog, or are you suddenly having a case of morality?”

“Oh, no morals here. In fact, if what you’re saying is true, we should snog more.”

“Really?” She screwed up her face. “Talk about messed up."

“You have no idea...” He pulled her closer. “Maybe we should take it a little further today, since you eventually came around.”

“And how far would that be?”

“Sitting. Touching, but not in the key areas and only outside the clothes.”

“You’re so boring.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Do you have any idea how much I was dying last time?” she whinged.

“Not really. But do tell me all about it.” He drew her towards the sofa.

She decided she might as well elaborate since he was inviting it. “You refused to touch me, and all I wanted was to be touched _anywhere_.”

“So did you find someone who’d do it?” He sat down and pulled her down next to him.

She frowned. Exactly how much on the prowl did he think she was? “No... I went back to my room... alone...”

“Poor little girl...” he teased.

“And then I took off all my clothes...”

He raised an eyebrow. “All of them?”

“I like to be naked when I please myself.”

He looked like he was going to object to the turn this conversation was taking, but then he frowned in thought. “Isn’t that kind of inconvenient?”

“Isn’t ejaculating kind of inconvenient?” she countered.

He gave her a gentle push so she sat down and then sat down next to her, saying, “That’s why I like to do it in the shower.”

“Do it? Please yourself or be pleased?” And how did he like to be pleased in the shower? All kinds of images flashed through Hermione's head and she wasn't opposed to a single one of them.

“I suppose both would work, but I was referring to being alone.”

“So, we both like to do it naked...”

“I actually prefer being on a bed, but you’re right that it’s a mess and there’s no real privacy around these parts.”

“My room is private,” she coaxed.

“I’m not going to come in your room, Hermione.”

“I like the way you say my name.”

He snorted a laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever met another girl who needed to get laid as badly as you do.”

“And yet you won’t do it.” She pouted. It really wasn't fair. They had so much chemistry between them, yet he refused to take advantage of it.

“I’ll snog you senseless if that counts.”

“I guess it’ll have to,” she said, still pouting. _Why_ was he so damn insistent that they couldn’t have sex? She could easily tell that he enjoyed the idea of her tossing off naked in her room, so why not act on it?

_Boys._


	5. Chapter 5

She was pouting again. Draco smothered a laugh. Whenever she was denied sex, Hermione really acted like a child denied sweets. It was almost cute. He couldn’t even be annoyed with it. In fact, the way she pushed her bottom lip out was nothing if not an invitation.

He ran his thumb over that lip. It was so lush and soft. He wanted to bite it. “If you don’t want me to snog you, all you have to do is say so,” he said.

“When did I ever say _that_?” she immediately objected.

“You act like it’s some kind of poor consolation prize.”

“It’s a consolation prize, but not a poor one,” she assured him. “I only wish...”

“Ah-ah. I told you not to keep pushing.”

She made a frustrated growl. “Why don’t you kiss me already?”

He laughed and did as asked, bending over to press his lips against hers. They were exactly as soft as they’d felt, but he already knew that. He tried to steel himself as best as he could—and it was considerably easier this time as he’d had the foresight to relieve some tension before coming here—but he still couldn’t help but react to her mere presence. She was such a sexual being that simply being around her drove him half out of his mind with lust.

She put her arms around his neck and tilted her head back, opening up to his probing tongue. He really liked the taste of her. But then again, he liked the taste of most girls. Once, he’d told Pansy she tasted sweet and she’d laughed at him, saying she most likely tasted like saliva. It had thrown him completely out of his tender mood and he hadn’t bothered saying any such thing again. Maybe sweet hadn’t been the right word, but he didn’t know what else was.

Hermione didn’t taste sweet. She tasted like sunshine and passion.

He let his hand run down her collarbone, across the side of her lovely, firm breast to her waist, and down her thigh. She moaned and arched into his touch. She was wearing a damned skirt again. She knew what those things did to him and that was probably why. He knew for a fact that she hadn’t worn one earlier in the day. He hesitated at the edge of the skirt with two fingers on her warm skin, but then he slowly slipped his whole hand up under it, feeling her smooth thigh under his palm.

Her grip on his head became firmer, her kiss more insistent. He willingly followed her lead, slowly edging his hand further up under her skirt and feeling his temperature rising with each inch.

Suddenly she made a frustrated sound and swung herself up on his lap.

Startled, he removed his hand. “This wasn’t part of the deal.”

“We’re still wearing clothes,” she muttered, trying to kiss him, but he turned his head away. He needed to have a clear enough head to think. Shrugging, she ran her lips over his cheek and neck, down to his shoulder instead.

Her legs were spread over his thighs. He could feel the warmth between them teasing him.

“You’re pushing it,” he groaned.

“I know... Please don’t be mad. I need to feel you...” She ran her hands up and down his chest outside his shirt. “Can I open this?”

He shook his head. “No...”

“Please... You know what it’s like to need to touch skin, otherwise you wouldn’t have touched me like that before.”

“Like what?”

“Under the skirt. Against your own rules.”

“You could’ve stopped me.”

“I didn’t want to. You knew I wouldn’t stop you.”

He did. He also knew that if he flipped her over right now and took her right there on this old sofa, she wouldn’t stop him. It drove him insane. He swallowed. He wanted to touch her thigh again.

“Just your chest,” she whispered. “I’ll stay out of your trousers unless you ask me to do otherwise.”

But what if he _did_ ask her? At the rate this was going, he wouldn’t hold out for much longer. “All right...”

He didn’t know why he’d said that. He’d meant to say no. At least he thought he’d meant to say no.

This was all so very confusing. He couldn’t seem to keep his head straight.

She slowly began unbuttoning his shirt, fumbling a bit and biting her lip. He was painfully aroused and knew she could tell from her current position, but he didn’t do anything to either aid or stop her. Finally, his shirt was completely open and she ran her hands up and down his naked chest, making him moan with the physical contact. He didn’t think he could get any more worked up, even if he tried.

“You have a nice chest,” she whispered, before kissing his neck and his collarbone.

He made a short laugh. “I doubt it’s that special.” In fact, he knew it wasn’t. He wasn’t really that athletic and he couldn’t be arsed to do much more than watch his weight and occasionally take a few more stairs than he had to.

“I don’t know if it’s special, but it’s appealing,” she muttered against his skin, making his entire being vibrate. This was nuts. Much more of this and he’d go off.

He gently pushed her far enough away for some of the fog in his brain to clear. “You need to slow things down,” he said, “or we’ll have to stop for today.”

“No,” she whimpered, squirming a little in his lap, making him dig his fingers into her thigh through her skirt. “I’ll be good.”

She _was_ good. That was the problem. Every look, every touch, even every breath seemed designed to turn him on. He pulled her close for another kiss. It felt so different when she was sitting like this on his lap and his shirt was open. Much more intimate. It was so easy to let one’s hands roam and to press a hand against her bum so she’d press against him and give a bit of relief for the briefest second.

She gasped against his lips and then began squirming even more. It was torture, but he couldn’t for the life of him ask her to stop. It felt too good. She was slowly gyrating her hips, massaging him with her weight, driving him closer to the edge.

He found that his hand had moved under her skirt again and was moving dangerously close to somewhere warm and damp. He should end this now. Stop it before they reached the point of no return. He lightly brushed a couple of fingers across the front of her knickers and she cried out and grabbed onto his shoulders like she was in danger of falling.

He probably shouldn’t do that.

He did it again and she let her head fall down and whimpered against his neck whilst moving against him in a much more intense way. It felt so damn good.

“Stop,” he grunted, feeling the pressure build. “Hermione... no...”

“Please don’t make me stop,” she whispered. “Please... I need...”

“Kiss me,” he said. She complied. He grabbed her hip, forcing her movements to stop and then touched her between the legs again, this time more firmly, and she tensed and made a sound that sounded mostly like a broken sob and shivered. He could feel the muscles contracting under his hand and it was extremely hard to not imagine what it would feel like around him.

He tried to strangle his own moan. She only had to breathe on him right and he’d be completely gone. He needed to stop right here. He couldn’t believe how far out of hand things had got this time.

He carefully set her aside and began buttoning his shirt. “This was exactly what I was afraid of,” he said once her breathing had returned to normal.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“I know, but what do you _think_ will happen when you push for more and more and more all the time?”

He wasn’t really upset, only frustrated. The image, feel and sound of her climax would haunt him for a very, very long time. Not to mention the scent. Oh, god, the scent. It was on him. He tried his very best to ignore it to no avail.

“I don’t know what you want from me, Malfoy. I’d be more than happy to please you in any way you see fit, but for some reason you don’t want that at all, even though you like to play with the fire. I know you were close just now. I know you only touched me so you wouldn’t come yourself. Why _is_ that?”

“I told you. I don’t want sex with you.”

“It was only a bit of rubbing. I’m certain that doesn’t qualify as sex for most people.”

“Then I’m not most people.”

“Is it pregnancy you’re afraid of? I know several very good spells and—”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Why won’t you tell me what it is, then?”

“Because it’s nothing you can fix.” Besides, the whole point was that he didn't want her to know.

“Bigotry, then?”

“If that’s what you prefer to think.”

“It doesn’t fit.”

“What doesn’t?”

“Bigotry.”

“It was your suggestion, not mine.”

“I mean, I understand why you wouldn’t want to be involved with me, but I don’t understand why you wouldn’t want to use me.”

“That sounds so charming.”

“I’m serious, Draco. Use me. I want to be used.”

Why did she have to be the one to tell him this? Why? Almost any other witch and he’d be dragging her to bed right that minute. "You're one odd witch, Granger."

"I'm not odd. I simply know what I want. And I want to see the look on your face when you—"

"Not going to happen."

"It almost did happen, didn't it?"

He snorted. "No, are you kidding me? I'm too sore for that. What with all the grinding..." He _was_ sore, but he would still have come. That didn't mean he wanted her to know it, though.

"Then let me soothe it." She got to her feet and went over to him.

"And how would you plan on doing that?"

"I could kiss it better..."

A small jolt went through him and he couldn't help but imagine her, on her knees, taking him into her mouth and... "No, Granger! And until you learn a thing or two about boundaries, I'm calling this off." He was practically shaking with need.

She sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry. I simply don't... understand."

"You don't need to understand someone's decision to respect it."

She nodded. "Again, you're right."

Her agreement annoyed him to no end. Yes, she was pushy, but he was partaking quite a bit himself! Why didn't she point that out rather than shoulder all the blame? Why didn't she call attention to his double standard of wanting to feel up her legs and blaming her for wanting to feel up his chest? Why didn't she insist that they continue down this road to hell?

With a frustrated grunt, he turned away from her and walked out the door.

* * *

Hermione was still feeling a bit woozy from what had happened, so when Draco left, her first action was to sit back down.

Well, that was one confusing boy, to be sure.

He reacted to her, no doubt about it. He reacted to her touches and her kisses, and she was fairly certain he'd reacted to her surprise orgasm as well. She'd thought she'd felt him grab her tighter and heard him make a sound.

He was as out of his mind with lust as she was, and he clearly _wanted_ more. Why else would he have touched her in that way, making it almost impossible for her to do anything but beg him to finish it?

Yet he remained adamant in his refusal to take the last step or, really, any step that would result in his own climax. Why was that? She was extremely certain that he was able to do the deed and, in fact, would very much enjoy it. She also knew that he was neither seeing anyone nor seemed very interested in any one particular witch.

It had to have something to do with her and she probably couldn't fix it. Maybe it was her blood or the power imbalance; she didn't know, but it was enough to make him dig in his heels.

It was too bad. Based on what had happened here today, she thought it would be quite the experience to take the last step.

Sighing, she got to her feet and began walking back to her room. She could probably use a shower, but she was tired and would probably go with a nap first. It wasn't every day she went for such a mental and physical rollercoaster ride.

"There you are!" Ginny seemed to appear out of thin air not far from Hermione’s room. "Whoa, and I can see what you were doing..."

Hermione didn't doubt that her lips were swollen, her hair and clothes were a mess, and that she was slightly stumbling. "What is it, Ginny?"

"I'll tell you right after you tell me what you're up to."

Hermione grinned. "I thought you said you could see that."

"But... am I right? Am I really right?" Ginny looked like her eyes would pop out of her skull any second.

"Relax, Ginny. It's nothing serious. Just a bit of fun."

"Uh-huh. With who?" Ginny was certainly nosy today.

"Now _that_ is none of your business."

"I hate to ask you this but I really must know—what about Ron?"

Hermione sighed. So much for having fun tonight. "I don't know yet, Ginny. That's what I'm trying to find out."

"Ok. I was looking for you because I thought you might want to know Harry's latest reply."

"Ah."

"Well, do you?"

"Does it concern me?"

"A bit." Ginny stopped as if unsure if she should go on. Then she hesitantly resumed. "He said he told Ron what you'd said about seeing others and Ron kind of... shut off."

"Shut off?"

"Yeah, you know him. He's probably sulking."

"Oh..." Hermione felt a little guilty but then pushed the feeling away. Why should _she_ feel guilty that _he_ had hurt _her_? She was not obligated to forgive him merely because he was sorry! Right now, she was doing her best to forget the hurt and pursue something that actually felt good and she'd be damned if she'd feel guilty about that!

"I'm not saying this to make you feel bad."

"I know."

"I simply thought you might want to _know_."

"Yes. Thank you." She tried her best not to be curt, but it was hard with all the emotions rolling around inside her.

"For what it's worth, I completely support your fun time,” Ginny continued. “I think everyone needs to have a fun time before settling down."

Hermione grinned. "Yeah? When was Harry's fun time?"

"Harry is the exception to an otherwise perfect rule," Ginny said without even blinking. "He'll get his fun time with me and nobody else."

Hermione laughed the rest of the way back to her room.

* * *

He was avoiding her. Hermione had to admit to some annoyance from that. So she’d climaxed when Draco had _touched her between the legs_ —he honestly thought that was grounds to avoid her?

She wasn’t normally a violent person, but she could slap him right now.

Slapping him probably wouldn’t be very productive, though. She had to figure out a way to get what she wanted. Getting him alone would be the easy part, considering that they still had to go to the library together a couple of times.

She couldn’t dress any sexier than she already did. If anyone saw her, she’d be in big trouble. She also couldn’t throw herself at him more, because he was right about one thing—she was becoming too pushy. No, she had to think of another way.

That was easier said than done, however, and the next library meeting was soon staring her in the face.

Not much to be done for it, though, so she went with no real plan about what to say or do.

Of course, Draco was late. He always tended to be. Like he was dragging his feet to be with her.

It _really_ annoyed her.

He hardly even acknowledged her presence but merely went to work. She felt her temper flare.

“Be careful with those!” she snapped when he dropped a book.

He eyed her warily. “Yes, Madam Granger.”

“And you’re staying until midnight.”

He stared at her. “I have an essay—”

“That’s really not my problem, is it?” she cut him off. “You should’ve thought about that before you were _late_ every single time.”

“It’s only been by a few minutes!”

“Last time it was a half hour.”

“I couldn’t help that! I told you, Slughorn wanted me to—”

“That’s really not my problem either.”

He looked at her for a few moments and then shook his head. “I knew this would happen.”

“What would?”

“You’re angry that I finished it and are using your position to take it out on me.”

“That’s not what’s happening! I haven’t hounded you to be here when you shouldn’t or written poorly about you even once! All I’m asking is that you make up for lost time.”

“Then why can’t it wait until the weekend?”

Yes, why couldn’t it? Because she was in a bad mood, damn it, and he was right! “Fine,” she grumbled. “Stay longer Friday or be here Saturday, I don’t care. Just do the bloody work!”

His lips twitched as if he were fighting a grin. “You’re pouting.”

She was, at that. She sighed. “I’m not feeling well, I think I’m going to go. You can do this alone for one night.”

“Go where?”

“To my room, where else?”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“Well, I do have this essay, and since I haven’t got the faintest what to write, I was hoping you could be persuaded to help me...”

She stared at him. Was he serious? “Why?” And more importantly, how had he thought to persuade her through not even acknowledging her presence?

“Because you’re the smartest person I know, and I hoped you’d take the chance to lecture me on something.”

She snorted. “I’m not that bad!”

“I never said you were.”

“You’re really desperate, aren’t you?” she asked, feeling her annoyance seep away in the face of a chance to help someone gain knowledge.

He nodded, looking fairly displeased. “Yes, I am, actually. They’re saying they won’t let me take my exams if I don’t get better marks in this subject.”

“What subject is it?”

“Muggle Studies...”

She stared at him. “What?”

“Hey, I didn’t choose it. They forced it on me. So, can you help me?”

She sighed. Her head was aching and she could barely think. “Fine, come to my room when you’re done.”

“Your... why not here?”

“Because I plan on lying down for a bit. If you don’t want to come to my room, then don’t. If you do choose to come to my room, however, I promise you that you’ll leave with your virtue intact.”

Then she left without checking his response. She honestly didn’t care what it was. He was the one who wanted her help, and if he couldn’t be arsed to do anything for it, then she couldn’t be arsed to help him.

* * *

Draco stood scowling at the door for a good five minutes before he managed to lift his hand and knock. He didn’t know why he’d asked for her help, it had sort of just happened. Not that he didn’t need it—he very much did—but he still hadn’t meant to ask for it.

He’d figured she’d say no.

Why hadn’t she said no? Any other witch he knew would’ve declined helping someone who’d rejected them like he had. But of course Hermione Granger had to be different, didn’t she? She had to constantly surprise him and turn him on with her unpredictable ways. She had to go from being this annoying geek girl to being a determined and very sexy seductress, and she had to not only forgive the unforgivable of what he’d done last year, but agree to _tutor_ him after everything.

If she had an agenda, he was unable to see what it could be. Was it really all because she wanted to sleep with him? There had to be others she could go to. He didn’t understand her claim that she was attracted to him at all. Why would such a clever witch be attracted to someone who’d once made it his life’s mission to make her and her friends miserable?

He knocked again.

Maybe she’d changed her mind and wouldn’t answer the door. That would probably be the best thing that could happen, because suddenly he’d remembered what she’d said about stripping naked to please herself on her bed, and he couldn’t get rid of those images. Entering that room would be a really bad idea.

She finally opened the door, yawning. She looked sleepy and rumpled.

“Were you asleep?” he asked. Stupid question, but his mental capacities were somewhat limited at the moment.

“Yes,” she replied, stepping back to let him in. “But it’s fine. I feel better now.”

“I can go...”

“When is your essay due?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Any particular reason why you waited until the last minute?” When he hesitated too long, she grabbed his arm and dragged him the last step in, and then closed the door behind him.

He half-stumbled in and was then staring right at her bed. Her bed. Where she...

He cleared his throat and half-turned to face her. “I tried to write it on my own, I really did. I simply don’t understand these things.”

“What things?” she sauntered over to sit down on her bed, motioning at him to sit down at her desk. Right. He was supposed to write. And she was supposed to... uh... talk. Yes, talk. About... things.

“It’s supposed to be about what a Muggle uses in his day to day life where we might use magic. I have some of the things written down. Like...” He opened his bag and rummaged until he found his notes and then read. “Instead of brooms, they use cycles or motorcars.”

“They don’t call them that.”

“Call what what?”

“You can get away with ‘cycles’ but it’s not ‘motorcars’, just ‘cars’.”

“But my book says—”

“Forget your book. It sounds awfully outdated.”

He scowled at her. “If my teacher gives me any grief, I’m referring her to you.”

“You do that. What else?”

“Instead of Floo, they use te... tel... teléphonos. No, wait, sorry, teléphonés.”

“It’s telephones.”

“Ah. But this is one, right?” He got his book and showed her a picture of an old phone with a dial.

“Uh, technically, yes.”

“So, how does it really work? I’m afraid I don’t quite understand how someone’s voice will travel like that without magic.”

“Muggles don’t need magic. They have physics and science, not to mention electricity.”

He wrote that down. He didn’t quite understand what she meant by it, but it sounded clever and he had to write something. “Could you explain to me how science works?”

She made a sound that sounded like a cross between a groan and a laugh and fell back on her bed—curse her!—saying, “This is going to be a long night, isn’t it?”

It certainly was.

* * *

Hermione stretched, not caring what it looked like that she was squirming around in the middle of her bed. She was tired and had been answering questions and had pieces of this essay read back to her for a full hour now.

The time wasn’t completely wasted, though. For one thing, it was always amusing to experience how ignorant certain wizards and witches were about Muggles. For another, she’d caught him glancing at her more than once and he had that _look_ in his eyes. He might not want to act on it, and that was perfectly fine, but she thrived on the knowledge that he did, in fact, want her.

It made her feel sexy. She liked feeling sexy.

“What are you looking so smug about?” he asked. He’d stopped writing and had turned all his attention to her.

The grin she hadn’t known she was wearing widened. “You did come to my room.”

“For homework.”

“I don’t care why.”

“If I recall correctly, I only said there wouldn’t be any... pleasuring... here.”

“Oh, but this is pleasing my brains. And you do know what they say about the brain.”

“No, what do they say about the brain?”

“That it’s the largest erogenous zone.”

He stared at her. “You know, that actually makes sense. You’re completely warping the concept, of course, but unwarped, it makes sense.”

“That’s why they say it. And I don’t mind being warped.” She winked at him.

His lips twisted as if he were fighting a grin. “No, I think I figured that one out for myself.”

She laughed at his dry tone of voice. “Relax, Malfoy. I’m not out to get you.”

“Aren’t you?” he asked, his eyes fixed on her as he got to his feet. “Because, honestly, I don’t know why else you’d be showing yourself off like this.”

She smiled. “I’m comfortable, that’s all. You woke me from a very pleasant dream and I helped you with your essay. I don’t think it’s too much to ask that I’m allowed to be comfortable.”

“I _am_ very grateful for your help.” He came closer to the bed.

She didn’t know what he was up to, but she felt disinclined to stop smiling. “And exactly how grateful would that be?”

“ _Very_ grateful.” 

“Uh-huh?” She didn’t have to look down his frame to know he wanted her very much right now. It was written all over his face. He was obviously waiting for her to make a move, but she wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. Not this time.

“Is there some way I can repay you?” he asked in a slightly hoarser voice when he realised she wasn't going to offer herself up without some effort on his part.

“If you were going to use snogging as an incentive for me to help you, you should probably have offered it _before_ I volunteered,” she teased.

“I’ll remember that for next time,” he murmured, sitting down on the edge of the bed, slightly turned to still face her.

She wished he’d climb on top of her, but figured the odds of that happening were slim to none. She would simply have to make do with whatever she could get.

“What are you staring at?” she asked after a few moments of him contemplating her visage. Or, more plainly put, staring her in the face.

“You have the most stunning eyes I've ever seen,” he said.

She snorted. “You don’t have to do that, Draco. I have the handbook, remember?”

“No. You do. I’ve always had a weakness for girls with brown eyes.”

In spite of telling herself that he was only using a line, Hermione felt her heartbeat speed up. What a silly thing to get affected by. “Oh. What about hair, then? Are you going to tell me you always had a preference for girls with brown, curly hair as well?”

“No. I don’t have a hair preference. And you need to learn how to take a compliment, Hermione.”

He almost purred her name, making her react again—this time she even felt a bit of heat in her cheeks. She scowled at him. “I’m very good at taking compliments, I’ll have you know.”

“Not this one.”

“Because you never spent a lot of time looking at my eyes. You much prefer my legs. Occasionally my mouth. And when you think I don’t notice, my breasts.”

“That’s because I spend a lot of time around you being randy.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at his bluntness.

“You also have a pretty smile,” he continued.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“See? You’re rubbish at taking compliments. I’ve called you pretty more than once and you always ignore it. I figured it was because you saw it as your due, but that’s not it, is it?”

“You really don’t have to feed me lines, Malfoy.”

“The truth is a line now?”

“You said it yourself—you’re randy. You’d never have called me pretty before I began trying to seduce you.”

“Not to your face, no. But do you really think your antics would’ve worked at all if I weren’t attracted to you?”

“Yes.”

He sat back and gave her an odd look. “Really?”

She decided she might as well give him the whole speech. “We’re at a very hormonal stage of our physical development. If my sexual attributes were presented in an appealing way to you, you shouldn’t give a fig about the rest of the package, as long as I didn’t try to present that as appealing to you as well.”

“Meaning?”

She grinned. “If I showed off my boobs to the best of their advantage and didn’t try to act like girlfriend material, it should make you want to go for it.”

He laughed. “You really are something.”

“I know.”

“So you don’t think you’re pretty?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what did you say?”

“I’m proud of most of my attributes. I merely see no reason why you’d suddenly call me pretty after giving me grief about my looks for years.”

He pursed his lips. “Ah. That.”

“Yes, that.”

“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t mean it?”

“No.”

“Fair enough. I guess I did. Would you believe me if I said I merely never saw the potential?”

“I could believe that.”

“Would you believe me if I said that I’ve now _seen_ the potential and it’s making it impossible to look away again?”

“Now you’re pushing it.”

He shook his head, his eyes smiling. “So defensive.”

“You’d have been better off merely telling me how much you enjoy kissing me. That’s an indisputable fact.”

He laughed again. “I do enjoy kissing you.”

“I know. That’s why you’re feeding me lines. So I’ll once more take the initiative, and you won’t have to take responsibility for the kiss.”

That seemed to take him aback. “Is that what you think?” he muttered. And then he bent down and kissed her. It was only a gentle touching of lips, but it still had her heart pounding in anticipation. Her breath caught and she felt his smile against her lips. Drat! But he didn't comment. Rather, his lips lingered and then moved, parting her lips, making her world buzz with electricity.

She'd have to amend the statement that only Muggles had electricity.

He was so good at this. Too good. Always such a tease.

She put her arms around his neck and tried to pull him down, but he was firmly braced above her. It was maddening. She'd all but given up when she felt his weight shift onto only one arm and his other hand glide up her hip and under her shirt to reach her belly and her chest.

Hermione approved. Hermione approved very much. She arched into his hand and he acknowledged it with a light squeeze but otherwise preferred to massage around any sensitive areas without actually touching them. It was driving her mad and she needed to feel skin _now_.

Without hesitation she reached down to pull up his shirt, making him break the kiss, undoubtedly to object.

"Shut up," she rasped. "I'll get at least this much."

He pursed his lips. "I was only going to say that I'm ticklish, so you should watch those fingertips of yours. Otherwise..." He kissed her again. "Carry on." He nipped at her lip and then stroked it with his tongue to soothe it, before deepening the kiss again.

She didn't need to have that repeated. She had his shirt open in no time. She then dragged him towards her, making him lose his balance and fall onto the bed, before she slung her leg around his hip and began greedily running her hands up and down his chest, trying very much to avoid tickling him in the spots that made him jump and twitch. She enjoyed feeling his heat, his heartbeat and his growing arousal very much. Right now, she wasn't alone in this and it felt wicked.

He moved his hand and she felt her bra give way to warm fingers, making all kinds of intense feelings rush forward.


	6. Chapter 6

“Wait!” Hermione said, turning her head away. “Rules!”

Draco nuzzled her ear and regrettably removed his hand from under her shirt. Completely. “Tease.”

“No, I’m not. You are. Hence, rules.”

“All right,” he whispered, still very close to her ear. “What rules do you want?” Then he nibbled at it before she could reply.

She swallowed. He was so playful today. It was odd in a strangely nice way. “You don’t blame me for whatever happens.”

“All right. But you don’t blame me either when we don’t have sex.”

She looked at him. “Then you redefine sex to vaginal intercourse.”

His head shot back and he looked at her for a long time before finally asking, “As in... you want a repeat of last time?”

She slowly shook her head. “No.”

“Then what?”

“I want to touch you," she whispered.

“Like last time?”

She shook her head more forcefully. “I already said no to that. Besides, I already sort of am touching you like that...”

“Then ho—oh.”

“It could just be a little bit.”

“I’m not certain I’m comfortable with that.”

She let out a long breath. Why did she keep doing this to herself? “Of course not. Never mind.”

“Wouldn’t you rather that I touched you?”

She shook her head. No, she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to be the only one who seemed to get anything from these meetings. She didn’t want to feel weak and vulnerable whilst he blamed her for his own weakness and ran off.

“I would, you know,” he continued. “If you asked me to.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve been nice to me and have pretty eyes and sexy legs,” he replied with a small grin.

She wasn’t in the mood to be charmed, though. "Hmh."

"Although your pout isn't that sexy," he teased.

"If it doesn't give me what I want, why bother being sexy?"

He sighed and rolled onto his back, putting his hands behind his head. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"Yes."

His grin returned. "Impossible, but funny. I like that about you."

"Doesn't it go against some sort of secret code of yours to acknowledge you like anything but my legs?"

"Not really. I've always appreciated any kind of humour that's not at my expense."

"Tell me, Malfoy. Is it because I'm too aggressive?"

He didn't bother to feign that he didn't follow. "Not really."

"I know I can be very determined and it puts some people off. But life's too short to sit around and wait for it to happen."

"Wait for what to happen?"

"Life!"

"You're not a very patient person, are you?"

"I suppose not."

"That's funny. I thought you'd be. But then again, I thought a lot of things about you that were wrong."

"Likewise."

"Yeah?" He perked up, giving her his full attention. "Where were you wrong about me?"

"I thought you'd sleep with me."

"Oh. That again." He actually seemed disappointed.

"And I thought you'd attempt to use it to your own advantage, either by ridiculing me to boost your reputation or blackmailing me to have things your way."

"Then why start anything in the first place?"

"Because I decided you wouldn't be able to successfully ridicule or blackmail me without serious repercussions to yourself and I meant to remind you of that after the deed was done."

"You have a plan for everything, don't you?"

"Yep. Except for you saying no. That one stumped me. I didn't figure I was off-putting enough to warrant that."

He didn't reply for a bit, but that was all right. She much preferred silence than some insincere reassurance that she wasn't off-putting at all. All evidence pointed to the contrary, after all. 

“How many girls do you think I’ve slept with?” he suddenly asked.

“What?”

“A rough estimate from all these rumours you’re going by.”

She shrugged and scrunched up her nose. “I don’t know. Ten. Maybe twenty?”

He nodded. “All right. Ten to twenty girls. Bear in mind that I only broke up with Pansy in the beginning of the school year and never cheated on her, so I have had less than six months to get that done.”

Hermione shrugged. “Ten girls in six months is approximately a new one every eighteen days. It’s doable.”

He snorted. “Not around these parts, it isn’t. It’s impossible to find that many girls who'd be willing so fast. Also, twenty girls in six months is a new one every _nine_ days. I’m certainly busy.”

“So what are you getting at?”

“Most of these girls are liars.”

“Oh, I figured that much.”

He propped himself up on an elbow to look down at her. “You did?”

She nodded. “Of course. There are several inconsistencies in their stories, after all. I always thought it was more likely that you’d only been with a handful of girls and the rest exaggerated a snog or two, if even that.”

“Oh.”

“I still don’t see your point.”

“My point is that I’ve simply never slept around as indiscriminately as you seemed to think. I admit I’ve kissed quite a few, but everything else is vastly exaggerated.”

She tilted her head and looked at him long and hard. “Are you saying you're reserving it for a witch you really like?"

He pursed his lips. "Now, now, Granger. Don't be so nosey."

"Oh, come on!"

"Maybe I'm simply reserving it for a witch who isn't doing it to get even with her boyfriend."

"I don't have a boyfriend," she insisted.

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"So you're saying you don't plan on getting back together with him after?"

She didn't reply.

"I thought so. He's your boyfriend."

"Even if I did have a boyfriend—which I don't—I'm not doing it to get even with him."

"Then what will you call this?"

"Levelling the field?"

"Also called getting even."

"No! I'm not doing it to punish him. I'm doing it because I want to and because I need our statuses to be the same before I can make a final decision."

"You mean, you want your statuses to be _even_?"

"Ugh, now you're impossible!"

"You know I'm right."

"So what if you are? I don't care. I'm not thinking of him when we snog."

He snorted. "That's always something."

“Besides, I thought you said we weren’t exclusive.”

“We aren’t. But the two of you are.”

“All evidence to the contrary.” She narrowed her eyes at the ceiling, wondering if that crack in the painting had always been there.

“Hey...” he said, nudging her shoulder with his own. “Being apart from someone can be hard. You start feeling like you don’t know them any more. You can work it out if you both want to.”

She turned her head to look at him. “You were apart from Pansy, weren’t you?”

The corner of his mouth drew up in what wasn’t quite a smile. “Would _you_ have brought someone you cared about to visit at a place like Malfoy Manor during the war?”

“But you eventually broke up.”

“Because we didn’t both want to work it out. In fact, neither of us did. She’d found someone new and I simply felt like she was a complete stranger and wondered what we’d been doing.”

“Yet you seem bitter.”

“Excuse me?”

“When you talk to her. You’re always so curt and rude. It’s either like you never cared about her at all or like you still care about her very much.”

“Huh.”

“It’s ok if you do, you know.”

He shook his head. “No, that’s over... She just annoys me a lot. Her guilty conscience makes her smother me with well-meaning ‘help’ that I have absolutely no use for. All she does is complicate everything and I wish she’d stop.”

“Maybe you should say you forgive her so she doesn't feel guilty any longer?”

“What?”

“That’s what she’s looking for, right?”

He stared at her. “That has to be too simple...”

“You won’t know until you try it. Just try to sound sincere so she’ll believe you.”

He laughed out loud. “I never thought we’d have a conversation like this.”

“I know, it’s oddly normal.”

“We should stop. It’s scary.”

“I’m not scared," she immediately said.

“Of course not. Nothing scares you.”

“Or maybe I don’t fear things merely because they are new, strange or I don’t understand them.”

“That’s a nice way of calling me a bigot again, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Suppose?”

Now it was his turn to stare at the ceiling. He pursed his lips as if mulling it over. “The truth is that I’m not really passionate about any of it either way. I only ever wanted to make my family proud and be a worthy successor to the Malfoy name. I failed at being able to do much all through the war, and now there isn’t even much of a name to succeed to, so...” He shrugged.

“So you’re saying that you only ever picked on me to make your daddy proud?”

“Yes. And because Potter _really_ annoyed me. Come to think of it, so did you, what with your swotty ways. Would it have killed you not to always know _everything_?”

“I never knew everything!”

“Uh-huh, in class you did. And if your advice with Pansy works, I’m going to have to punish you.”

“Oh, that’s gratitude!”

He gravely nodded. “Come to think of it, I’m actually glad you don’t know about sex. That means there’s a gap in your knowledge where millions of other people actually _do_ know.”

“I’ll know soon enough.”

“ _Millions_ of people, Granger. Imagine that. In fact, at this very school—”

“You’re just trying to annoy me, aren’t you?” she cut him off.

He grinned. “Is it working?”

“Sort of.”

“Good.”

“That’s no way to treat a witch whose bed you’re currently sharing!” she whinged, even though she was actually having an odd kind of fun right now.

“Mm, you’re right. I should probably go find my own bed.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Because my bed is eight floors down and in a room with several other beds filled with boys that snore and, frankly, smell rather badly most of the time. You smell nice and your room is quiet. I’ll go in a minute.” His reluctance wasn't exactly subtle.

She considered it for a second. “You don’t have to.”

“Hm?”

“You could stay.”

“Did this conversation just go full circle?”

She laughed. “No, not quite. You can stay and _sleep_ on only one condition.”

“And that would be?”

“Take off your clothes.”

“Ah. Should’ve known.”

“No. You keep your underwear on, silly. But everything else—off.”

“And you promise not to try to get into my underwear?”

“That’s a big promise...”

“Hermione...”

“All right, all right. I solemnly sw—eh, I mean, I promise I won’t try to tamper with your underwear.”

He shot her a look. “And what about you?”

“I have sleepwear if my underwear is too revealing for you.”

“You really have no modesty, do you? What if someone finds out?”

“Why would anyone find out? Nobody ever comes here and even if they did come early and saw you leaving, we could just say you had to see me about something.”

* * *

Draco glanced at Hermione. She seemed perfectly serious.

“All right, then,” he said, getting up and hesitantly removing his shirt.

She bit her lip and he felt his cheeks heat. It was both gratifying and embarrassing to have her appreciate his bare skin like this.

“Now the trousers,” she impatiently said. “Come on, Draco. We don’t have all night!”

He raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought we did.” But he still opened his trousers and stepped out of them.

She’d sat up, her eyes big and round, staring at one place in particular.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t stare like that at my crotch,” he muttered, scowling. He was reacting and knew she could see it.

She grinned at him. “Just trying to gauge size here.”

“Oh, so now size matters too?”

“Of course it does.”

“That’s... reassuring. What any bloke wants to hear, really.”

“Why is it so wrong that I don’t want the first one to be _too_ large?”

He stared at her and then laughed. “Oh, Granger... Never change.”

She pursed her lips and then shook her head. “You’re still wearing socks!” she said, getting out of bed and casually undressing.

He couldn’t help but look. He really enjoyed looking at her body. She had really nice legs—probably from constantly climbing up and down those damn stairs—a nice perky bottom, well-rounded breasts and a cute little soft belly. He liked that. He enjoyed curves and softness on girls.

“Now who’s looking?” she asked, going to her chest to rummage around a bit for her nightwear. 

The view from where he was standing was exquisite and he soon realised that he’d best get into bed before she got any ideas. He ducked under the covers right as she straightened and pulled on a pair of baggy pyjama trousers and a sleeveless T-shirt.

“Now I’ll be hot as hell,” she grumbled as she went for the bed.

“I can keep my distance,” he offered.

“Not on your life.”

“Oh?”

She got in on the other side of the bed. “Well, since you’re here, I want a goodnight kiss. Is that too much to ask?”

Yes. Far, far too much. “Of course not,” he said, shifting closer to her. “How do you want it, Madam All-Knowing?”

She smiled. “Lengthy.”

* * *

When Hermione woke the next morning, she was alone again. Feeling disoriented, she sat up and looked around, but there was no sign of Draco whatsoever. His clothes, bag and self were all gone. And so was her cat, come to think of it. Crookshanks had decided to come out from under the bed and make his presence known at some point during the night to Draco’s great annoyance. He hadn’t appreciated the cat attempting to take over the pillow by nudging, kneading and purring a lot, so he’d probably kicked it out.

Oh, well. It was a weekday and she should get up and ready for her classes. That was probably why Draco had left as well, so he could have time to change and get ready for school.

It had been surprisingly nice to sleep next to him, even though he never caved and had sex with her, even when he was all but gasping for air and trembling.

Still, it had been nice to be allowed to make him gasp for air and tremble. And then they’d wound it down and gone to sleep.

She’d never slept with anyone like this before. She’d slept in the same room as Ron a few times, but not under the same covers, snuggling. It was nice. She approved. She needed to do that again soon.

Maybe if Draco hated his dorm so much, he could be persuaded to come spend his nights here in spite of her cat? It wasn’t like people didn’t expect him to stay out all night anyway. They could sleep and snog and maybe eventually... She grinned. Oh, yes. She definitely had to propose this plan to him. Today. Later. After she’d had a shower to make sure she still smelled fresh.

* * *

Soft lips against lips. Moist, hot breath against skin. Hands seeking out anywhere they could reach. Round, perky breasts begging to be tasted. Lovely, shapely legs, opening, inviting him in. Damp knickers being moved to the side, allowing him to feel with just a couple of fingers the heated centre he was so desperate to explore in so many ways. Squirming, moaning, whimpering. She made _that_ sound and he looked up to see her thoughtful, brown eyes looking almost startled as she climaxed under him.

Draco braced his arms against the cool tiles on the wall, allowing the hot water to wash over him. He never got any further than this before he had to give in to his own climax. He tried not to fantasise about her, but half the time it was just so damn impossible.

Something had to change. Soon. He knew what the obvious change would be, but he couldn’t do it. He simply couldn’t. It wouldn’t be what she wanted and he didn’t want it all to end up being one big hot mess, not when he was already so self-conscious about his own lack of experience. The lack of _any_ real experience. Of course, he could tell her about his dilemma, but then she’d stop wanting him and there’d be no more snogging sessions. She wanted the skilled sex god experience, not the fumbling virgin experience.

He could only give her the latter. Every time he thought he had it down and could fake it through, something happened to either bring him too close too soon or quite frankly scare him.

It was impossible.

Damn Pansy for spreading that false rumour and damn every single girl who’d decided to play along without actually sleeping with him. He’d never wanted to go this long without _actually_ having sex, but he simply wasn’t that much of a natural charmer. Most of the time their shallowness disgusted him and he was perhaps a tiny bit cruel if they decided to be coy.

He needed to lose it and fast. Could he learn to at least hold it back a little longer in one night? He had to. He needed this chance to be with Granger before she either found someone better suited or decided it wasn't worth the effort. He needed to fulfil this fantasy.

Maybe if he went for someone known to be rather... fickle, and turned on all his most insincere charm, he could get this done in a matter of days. Hell, he wasn’t opposed to getting the witch expensive gifts if only she would help him with this aggravating dilemma.

It was time to take some action.

* * *

Hermione pouted down at the parchment in her hand. She’d sent Draco a note, suggesting he come to her room later, but he’d sent this back, declining.

“ _I can’t tonight. Something’s come up. I’ll let you know when I have time._ ”

What was _that_ supposed to mean? Something had come up? What? Something preventing him from sleeping?

Why, oh, why was he always running away, no matter how well he liked what they did? It was annoying and a pointless waste of time. She’d even been very good about not pressuring him too hard about having sex last night, at least if she had to say so herself.

Silly boy.

She supposed that meant she had to go hunt him down and seduce him again.

Hunting him down would be easy enough. She’d merely play the stalker and follow him after dinner to confront him about his silliness.

She rolled up the note and went down to the Great Hall to do just that.

It turned out she barely had time to eat before he decided to leave. She raised an eyebrow at that. Maybe he truly did have something he needed to do. Nevertheless, she followed him out at a moderate distance. This happened to be a good thing, because it gave her time to duck behind a suit of armour when someone called out to him.

“Oy, Draco! Where are you off to now?”

It was a Slytherin boy unknown to Hermione. Probably a regular seventh-year.

“Homework,” Draco said, patting the bag that Hermione had somehow missed he was wearing. “I have several assignments to do.”

“Ah, good luck with that,” the other boy said, disappearing into the Great Hall.

Huh. Homework. So he was going to the library? And that was an obstacle to seeing her... how?

This became sillier by the second.

She decided to follow him to his destination and then scold him well.

Besides, it was kind of fun to follow him without him knowing about it. Fun, but also slightly troublesome. She fell behind on several long stairs and hallways where she didn’t dare to enter until he’d turned a corner and thus almost lost him twice.

It took her longer than it should have to realise he wasn’t even going near the library. In fact, he continued up a few more floors and went the complete opposite direction. Hermione began getting a really bad feeling about where he was going and why. She should probably turn around and let him go about his business, but now that she knew something was off, she couldn’t let it go.

Even when she realised what office he was going to.

He could use that office for other things, really. It had a desk. Maybe he merely liked being undisturbed. He went in, leaving the door open, and she ducked into the room on the other side of the hallway.

It turned out it wasn’t so much a room as a cupboard with cleaning supplies that looked like they could use a fair bit of cleaning themselves.

Now what? What was she doing? This was stupid.

She’d almost decided to go out and announce her presence when she peeked through some cracks in the boards that made up the door and saw that Draco had come back out into the hallway. Seeing him made her hesitate. Maybe it was simply better to slip off once he couldn’t see her. It would certainly be less embarrassing.

He checked his watch and impatiently sighed and looked down the hallway. “You’re late.”

Who was he talking to?

“I’m sorry,” a female voice responded, making Hermione stiffen. “It’s quite new for you to take me up on my invitations.”

“Better late than never, right?” Draco said, but there was a marked change in him. He didn’t look or sound impatient any longer, instead he looked... flirty? Hermione felt like she was going to be sick.

“Mm... Before we go any further, I heard some rumours...”

He reached out to tuck a lock of the girl’s hair behind her ear. “What about?”

“You and the Head Girl.”

He shook his head. “Nothing there.”

“Really?” the girl asked. “You’re talking to the expert in sneaking around here.”

He laughed. “All right. I need better marks and she needs... well, let’s just say it’s a mutually satisfactory arrangement. And non-exclusive.”

Hermione realised she was hurting herself with how hard she was grabbing onto the door frame and made an effort to relax. He wasn’t lying. Apart from him not actually being willing to go the last step, she supposed that was exactly the kind of arrangement they had.

There was no need to feel this hurt about his dismissal. He was something temporary before she finally made up her mind about Ron, that was it. What did she care if he scoffed at last night and tried to kiss this girl?

The girl cocked her head. “Why _did_ you ask me up here, Draco?”

He bestowed that charming half-smile of his on her. “Because I realised you had the most stunning eyes I’ve ever seen.”

“My eyes?”

“Yes...” he said. “I’ve always been partial to blue eyes.”

Every word was a punch to Hermione’s gut. She’d known the thing with the eyes had been a line. She’d known all along. But why had he needed to lie to her like that? Didn’t the boy have a heart?

“Just my eyes, then, huh?” the girl teased, but she’d gone closer to Draco and didn’t seem to mind his antics at all.

“No, not just,” he said in what was little more than a whisper. “You’re very pretty. Did you know that?”

“Why don’t you tell me more about it?” she replied.

He smiled and whispered, “Why don’t you enter my office and I’ll tell you exactly how pretty you are?” 

The girl smiled. “That’s what I hoped you’d say.”

“And I hoped we could stop talking,” he said and then he kissed her.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears, not wanting to hear anything else. Her stomach was in a violent uproar and she felt a telling pressure behind her nose and eyes that she didn’t want to acknowledge. This was Draco Malfoy. This was why she was trying to get into bed with him in the first place. This was what she’d signed up for.

Slightly shaking, she opened her eyes and peeked out again to see that they were gone and the office door was closed.

Without further ado, she hurriedly opened the cupboard door and fled the area, heading blindly for somewhere she’d be guaranteed to neither see nor hear Draco Malfoy for as long as it took her to get rid of these irrational feelings of hurt and betrayal.

* * *

Draco softly closed the door behind them and looked at the girl of the day. Her name was Jenny something-or-other and he’d always thought she was pretty, but something about her had annoyed him enough that he hadn’t wanted to get involved with her. Tonight she would do. Tonight was all about getting this over with, so he could sate his burning lust for Hermione Granger without being completely humiliated or pissing her off.

“Charming place,” Jenny said after inspecting the room. “You bring all your girls here?”

“Only the ones that turn me on,” he said, taking a few steps closer to her.

“So, that’s a yes?”

“Want to go somewhere else?” he asked, cupping her chin. “Because we could. Where do you want to go? How can I make you be with me?”

He was making himself nauseous with all these lines.

She put her hands on his shoulders. “Silly boy. I’ve wanted to be with you for months.”

He smiled, certain that the insincerity of his expression was seeping through his eyes, but still attempting to keep up appearances. “You should’ve let me know, then.”

“It’s not my fault you can’t take a subtle hint.” She pouted.

_Then stop being so damn subtle and go for what you want!_

He maintained his smile. “It doesn’t matter. We’re here now.”

“That we are,” she whispered and drew down his head for another kiss.

He waited for all his pent-up lust to surface. Nothing.

All he felt was warm lips against his own. Lips that he was completely uninterested in.

Frowning, he attempted to deepen the kiss, to see if that helped, but even though she willingly opened up to him... still nothing. He was as sexually aroused as he had ever been during a History of Magic lesson on an early Monday morning.

Maybe he’d picked the wrong girl? Or maybe it was simply this whole idea of forcing himself through an encounter he didn’t care about in order to have one he _did_ want that left him cold?

Either way, it seemed that he couldn’t do this.

Sighing, he broke the kiss. “Right. I have to go.”

“What?” She stared at him. “ _Now?_ ”

“Yes, now.”

“Why?”

He considered giving her the blunt truth but then decided it was hardly her fault that he was suddenly feeling impotent. “There was something I forgot to do, I guess.”

“And it can’t wait?”

“No.”

“All right, but when—”

“I don’t blame you for being angry at me,” he cut her off, edging back towards the door. “What, really, with me leading you on like this and then simply walking off again. In fact, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to see me again.”

“But—”

“Don’t worry, I understand. I’m quite certain you can do better. Best of luck!” Then he hurriedly let himself out and strode down the hall with big steps, hoping she wouldn’t pursue him.

Damn. What now? He’d really thought he could do this, so he didn’t even have a backup plan.

He supposed he could still try to fake it, but all his experience with snogging Hermione at length told him that it wouldn’t be a success. No matter how much he tried to see to matters beforehand, she always knew exactly how to turn him upside down and inside out and make him burn with need. He wouldn’t last two minutes like that.

That left one last undesirable option: Honesty.

Chances were that she’d completely reject sleeping with him once he told her that he wasn’t able to live up to the reason she was pursuing him.

But then again, she already knew he hadn’t slept with a _lot_ of girls and didn’t seem to mind. Maybe she’d let him have a few goes until he got it right?

No, she probably wouldn’t. She was only interested in doing it once. She wanted to get rid of her virginity so she could get back with her precious Weasley.

Why should it even matter to her if it was any good when that was all she wanted?

Apart from a normal desire to enjoy the sex, of course.

He hardly even knew what he was on about any longer. He was confused as hell about why he hadn’t wanted Jenny and why he was feeling so bitter about Hermione only wanting to do it once and only wanting to do it with someone experienced.

He’d better simply tell her and get it over with. Maybe then he could remember how to lust for someone else again.

He took a detour, aiming for her room and knocked without hesitation as soon as he reached it. There was no answer, so he tried again.

“Hermione?” he called. “It’s me. Could you perhaps open up?”

Still no answer.

He knocked once more. “Hermione, if you’re there, I’d really like to talk to you! About... about us. Could you come to the door, please?”

No answer.

He tried the handle, but wasn’t surprised in the least to find it locked. She must be out, then. She’d never ignored him before, so why would she start now?

Because he couldn’t think of anywhere else to check, he went to check the library, only to find it completely abandoned.

Resigning himself to having to wait to resolve this, he decided to call it a day and seek her out in the morning instead.

* * *

Hermione sat blindly staring at Gryffindor common room’s fireplace. Some younger students were noisily playing wizard chess to her left and Ginny was sitting in a chair, looking at her, to her right.

She supposed she should come up with some kind of excuse to be here.

“What happened?” Ginny finally asked.

Hermione shook her head. “Why did anything have to happen?”

“Because this is the first time you’ve been here without an actual reason.”

“Oh.” She hesitated. “We’re still friends, right?”

“Of course.”

“Do you know any boys that might want to go out with me?”

Ginny blinked, taken aback. “I assume you mean beside my brother.”

“Yes. Someone here, at this school.”

“I don’t think anyone mentioned you specifically, but I don’t see why anyone would be _opposed_ to going out with you.”

“I do. Because I’m the Head Girl. Because I’m older than everyone else. Because I have a reputation for being a dull swot with no sense of fun.”

“Considering that you’ve recently decided to drink at parties rather than break them up and report them, I’d say you’ve successfully countered the ‘dull swot with no sense of fun’ bit. I don’t see why age should be a problem either, or your Head Girl status for that matter.”

“So you think you can find me a date?”

“Um, certainly. Why do you need one?”

Hermione looked down at her hands. “Just do.”

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with whoever messed up your clothes that night?”

Oh, crap. Hermione had forgotten that Ginny had seen her come back one time. “Yes and no. He’s out of the picture.”

“But...?”

“But I don’t want him to think that I’m sitting around, missing him. I’ve had enough of that.”

“Ah. So, that kind of date.”

“No, it would be a real date. I’m open for anything to happen. _Anything_.”

“Out of curiosity, what did this mystery boy do?”

“Nothing, really...” Because he hadn’t. He’d made a point of stressing that they were non-exclusive from the start. She’d merely made stupid assumptions since she hadn’t _seen_ him with anyone else before that. “He simply wanted someone else more than me.” That was also the truth. Based on what she’d heard, it seemed fairly obvious that he was having sex right now, even though he kept refusing to have sex with her.

“Did he cheat on you?” Ginny quietly asked.

Hermione gave a half-hearted snort. “You have to be together for someone to cheat. You can’t cheat on someone you’re only having a bit of fun with. Or someone you’re technically broken up with, for that matter.” She realised her bitterness was beginning to show and quickly amended. “I was getting tired of him anyway.”

Ginny looked as if she had a hard time forming her next question. “Did Ron cheat on you?”

“No. We weren’t together.”

“But he did have someone else?”

Hermione sighed. She didn't want to turn Ginny against her brother. “It doesn’t matter.”

“But it does, doesn’t it? That’s why you can’t forgive him. That’s why you got involved with another cheater.”

“No.”

“Then why did you?”

“Because I was stupid. I thought I wouldn’t care if he saw other witches. Turns out that I do, and it’s my own bloody fault.”

“Maybe if you told him that?”

Hermione laughed without humour. “What? Tell him that he was right that I can’t handle that kind of relationship without becoming jealous? No, thank you. It would be humiliating and it would still be over. Neither of us ever meant to get involved and I don’t even want to be involved with him.”

Ginny slowly nodded. “So... you want a date.”

“Yes. As fast as possible. Oh, and if he’s cute, it’s a plus.”

“And it’s not at all designed to make Mystery Boy jealous?”

Hermione snorted, this time with a bit of humour. “I may be stupid, but I’m not _that_ stupid. He’ll shrug and go bonk someone else.”

“I see,” Ginny muttered. “Well, it may be doable. I know of someone else who could use a nice rebound fling. I suppose you don't care that he's a little younger?”

“Ginny, everyone at this school is younger than me.”

"Oh. Right. Not a problem, then!"


	7. Chapter 7

Draco was confused. Hermione seemed to be avoiding him all of a sudden and he had no clue why. She sat far from him in class, sent no notes, and one time he was _certain_ she changed her path to avoid him.

Finally, he sent a note to her. “ _I’ll come by tonight._ ”

The reply was swift and merciless. “ _I have other plans, sorry._ ”

What was that supposed to mean? Hadn’t she _wanted_ him to come by?

“ _But I have something I want to talk to you about._ ”

“ _It will have to wait._ ”

“ _What about during library duty, then?_ ”

“ _Didn’t the Headmistress summon you yet? She’s back and so is Madam Pince. Our library duty is over._ ”

Draco blinked at the bit of parchment in front of him. He'd heard no such thing. He couldn't say he was exactly pleased at having to go back to the painful scrutiny of before, but it was inevitable, he supposed.

" _No library duty, then,_ " he wrote back. " _But I'll come over tomorrow._ "

She didn't respond and he chose to interpret her silence as agreement.

* * *

"So... as Head Girl, exactly how many areas of this castle do you have access to?" Mallory asked.

Hermione pursed her lips. She couldn't get over the fact that Ginny had put her together with Mallory of all people. Apparently his new relationship had been short and tempestuous. Or, as Ginny put it, 'rather typical for their age'.

"A lot of them. Why?" she answered.

"I hear the view from the Astronomy Tower is good this time of night." He flashed her a grin.

At least he wasn't afraid to use regular old innocent lines on her.

"That could perhaps be arranged," she airily replied, "but what would be in it for me?"

"I'm certain I could find a way to show my gratitude," he said with a wink.

She laughed. There was no way she could stop herself from laughing at such a show of light-hearted charm.

"Come on, then," she said, leading the way to the tower.

"I was surprised Weasley approached me on your behalf," he conversationally said as they were walking along. "I didn't think you had any problems doing your own asking out."

Hermione shrugged. "I've had some bad experiences lately. I'd rather not be rejected to my face right now."

"I know that feeling," he muttered. "Why do these things always have to be so complicated?"

"They don't," Hermione simply replied, opening the locked door that guarded the tower stairs.

"What do you mean?" Mallory asked.

"I mean that we could keep it simple. Not get involved like that."

"No involvement?" he asked, sounding sceptical.

"I wouldn't say _no_ involvement. I don't know about you, but I wouldn't mind some physical involvement."

The way he looked at her, she could tell he was considering it. "I don't think I'd mind that," he replied.

"Of course you wouldn't," she said with a smirk.

* * *

Draco stared at the scene before him. Other plans, indeed. Why was she suddenly rejecting him to go off with some other bloke? He didn't know Mallory very well, but considering that the boy was only sixteen or so, he wasn't bound to live up to Hermione's high expectations regarding experience.

Maybe it was only him she required that from.

He couldn't make out everything they were saying, but even he could see how much she was flirting from where he was standing.

It was a good thing he'd seen them walk by as he was coming from the library and had decided to follow them. It would've been rather embarrassing to have confessed his own sexual status when this was what she was up to.

Suddenly, Mallory bent forward and kissed Hermione. It was a hesitant kiss at first, but Hermione didn't object, so it quickly became more passionate.

Draco couldn't believe his own eyes.

How many others had she been out with, then? How many boys had she "tested" and attempted to seduce in these past few weeks? How many had slept in her bed and had to deal with that stupid cat of hers? Was she even still a virgin?

How many lies could one little Muggle-born seductress spew in a few weeks?

Without making his presence known, he turned on his heel and walked away.

* * *

"Stop!" Hermione gasped, breaking free from Mallory. "I need air."

He grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. I was having fun."

Oddly, she hadn't been having that much fun. Mallory seemed to be a competent kisser, but she simply didn't feel any spark with him. He was cute as hell, but mostly she wanted to hug and pet him—in a decidedly non-sexual way.

How annoying.

"Maybe we should save the Astronomy Tower for some other time," she said.

"Yeah?" he said, looking suggestive. "What did you have in mind, then?"

She hated to disappoint him, but she'd better quash those hopes of his fast. "Homework! I mean, I just remember that I have a lot of it and I should really get it done."

"It's Friday. You have all weekend."

"You'd think that, but what with being the Head Girl and... and I promised to tutor some people and I'm helping at the library and... I really have to go. I'm sorry. I didn't think this through, obviously."

"You think everything through."

"No, I really don't. Trust me."

"If you're regretting this, just say so."

She flinched. "I'm sorry." Then she hurriedly walked off.

* * *

Now what?

Draco sat in his common room, pondering that very question. He hadn't realised how much he'd counted on somehow getting to the finishing line with Hermione until now when it was fairly obvious that it wouldn't happen.

He also hadn't realised how much he'd let her get to him.

He couldn't remember feeling this sick about seeing two people kiss since he'd walked in on Pansy snogging Theo. This was all very odd, considering that he'd been going out with Pansy for almost five years and he'd only snogged Hermione for a few weeks.

He tried not to put too much importance on it, though. He'd already known that Pansy had been drifting away from him back then and he'd mostly kept her around because it was comforting to have someone so familiar.

He simply hadn't expected to be shafted like that, not then and not now. That was all.

Zabini entered the room and gained a look of unholy glee when he spotted Draco. "Malfoy! Just the wizard I wanted to see!"

"What?" Draco dully responded, not in the mood for Slytherin games.

"I merely wanted to express my appreciation that you made a certain witch named Jenny need to be comforted."

"Ah. And I suppose you did the comforting."

"Yes, indeed." He flashed a grin.

Draco couldn't care less. "So, was she worth your time?"

"More than worth it," Zabini assured him. "That witch knows a few tricks."

"You'll be seeing her again, then?"

Zabini snorted. "You must be joking. She's half-blood. She's good but not _that_ good."

Draco nodded. That was a very real concern as well. Blood status. Almost everyone in Slytherin would have their lives very seriously impacted in a negative way if they were to openly associate with a half-blood on equal terms. A Muggle-born was almost unthinkable.

Zabini excused himself to go to bed, but Draco hardly noticed him.

He was battling a lot of feelings about Hermione that he didn't fully understand. There was the frustration of thwarted lust, the disgust of her duplicity, and something that did feel a bit like sadness. After he'd realised how much he wanted her, he'd still liked her well enough to not want to ruin her first time with his inexperience when she'd clearly wanted something better than that.

He'd even decided to be honest with her.

Draco had always figured that whilst Hermione could hold her own against him and his friends, she was genuinely kind and caring. If anyone ever truly needed her for something, she would be there, no questions asked. He even thought she'd help out Pansy if the need arose and he knew first-hand from hours of listening to Pansy how much the two of them despised each other.

Yet she'd led him on, only to reject him to go out with someone else for no reason at all. That wasn't kind at all! If he'd had feelings for her—which he didn't—it would've been downright cruel! And here he'd thought that in spite of everything, they'd shared a few moments in that bed of hers. Obviously, he was mistaken.

Maybe he should merely sleep with her.

The thought gave him pause.

Of course, there was no guarantee that she even still _wanted_ to, but maybe she could be persuaded if he came on to her strong enough. And then he could, whether she was still a virgin or not, get what he craved so badly, and he wouldn't even have to feel rotten about it. It would be her own fault for how she'd treated him. Besides, he really _would_ do his best and try as many times as she'd let him, so he wasn't being a complete dick to her, in spite of what she'd done.

He simply needed to have her. Once he'd had her, all these heavy feelings in the pit of his stomach would go away, he was certain of that.

* * *

When the knock finally sounded on Hermione's door, she hesitated to open it. She knew it was Draco out there; she simply didn't know what to do about him. She could pretend she didn't know about his other girls and go ahead and try to seduce him, or she could tell him definitively no.

Neither option appealed to her. She still felt bile rising in her throat whenever she thought of him with that other witch, but she didn't know where else to find that kind of chemistry. He'd spoiled her into not even wanting to snog Mallory, damn it!

The knock came again, more insistent this time. "Stop playing games, Granger!" Draco's voice said from the other side of the door.

She huffed and slammed the door open. "I do not—!"

His lips were on hers before she could finish and he was crowding her to the point where she was forced to step back, only to have him follow.

What was this?

She tried to object, but he ignored it and merely used the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth, stroking hers in just the way he'd discovered she enjoyed it last time he'd been here.

She felt herself going soft against him, giving in to how lovely it felt. He had to still want her to kiss her like this. Maybe she could look past her hurt feelings and still have one night with him.

She slid her arms around his neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, even going so far as standing on the tip of her toes to reach him more easily. At first he seemed stunned, but then he grabbed her neck, making the kiss more forceful, almost painful.

"Wait! No..." She turned her head away.

"What?" he sneered. "Now you suddenly don't want to?"

She stared at him in shock at his hostility. "The door is open..."

He turned around, shut the door and locked it. "There."

"What's wrong?" she had to ask.

"You are."

"Me?"

"Yes. So, so wrong." Then he kissed her again, no less aggressively than before.

Hermione was confused to say the least.

He pushed her backwards until her calves hit the bed and then further, making her fall back on it. She gave him a wide-eyed stare, trying to figure out what he was doing, but there was only a second's respite before he resumed the kiss, sliding his hand up under her shirt to grab her breast, hard.

She gasped. This was wrong. This wasn't what she wanted. She turned her head aside and he took it as an invitation to rake her neck with his teeth. She winced. It wasn't painful per se, but he was definitely on the rough side of pleasant.

His other hand moved down to her waist and began fumbling for a way to open her trousers and she froze. _No_! Not like this!

"Stop..." she muttered, trying to push his hand away.

"Shut up," he growled. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? To drive me so mindless that I can't refuse? Well, you have it now. Aren't you pleased?"

_Just because I offered you something before, doesn't mean you're entitled to it now!_

"No! Wait!" She shoved at him with all her might. 

He resisted at first but then simply sneered and moved off her. "So that was your plan all along? To reject me before anything happened?"

She shook her head. "I think you need to leave."

"Oh, I'll leave." He got up, adjusting his own clothes as he did so. "But, Granger? Don't you ever dare come near me again."

He slammed the door after himself and Hermione was left on her bed trying to figure out what had just happened.

* * *

Draco was lying fully clothed on his stomach on top of his covers, his face buried in his pillow.

He didn't even know himself any more.

The plan had been to come on strong to Hermione, not to partially _violate_ her. But seeing her, feeling her yield to him, realising how _much_ he wanted her... it had made him angry and frustrated and he'd wanted to punish her. He'd wanted to make her hurt.

Since when was that him?

Since he couldn't get that damn image of her kissing some other boy out of his head, that was when.

He began shaking. So this was what he was made of? Someone who'd get jealous for no reason and then turn into a monster?

Why did she have to make him want her like that? He'd known it had been a bad idea from the start. She brought out the worst in him, and he was quite certain that he brought some of the worst out in her as well.

It really had been a bad idea.

A very bad idea.

Why did he have to want her?

Why did he want to hurt her so much that he hurt himself?

This was worse than his very worst fears.

* * *

"Hermione?"

She jumped at the sound of _his_ voice and spun around, clutching the book she'd been perusing to her chest. "If I'm not supposed to go near you again, then you can't talk to me!"

He flinched. "I know... I... I overreacted. I'm sorry."

"Uh-huh." She glanced around, probably mapping her escape route in case things got unpleasant.

"And I was out of line."

"Yes." She nodded, looking very much in agreement.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I... understand if you're staying angry with me."

"No, really?" she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice before she continued in a hushed tone, "You _understand_ if I'm staying angry at you? After what you did?"

"I stopped."

"It was still assault and you know it."

"If I hadn't been rough, would you have minded?"

"It doesn't matter. You were rough and I _did_ mind!"

She was right and this conversation was over. He didn't want it to end like that, but he didn't know what else to say. "I saw the two of you," he blurted out.

"What?"

"You and the one you crib-robbed."

"And?"

Her flip response infuriated him even though he had some vague awareness that it shouldn't. "And I _don't_ appreciate being led around like that."

"Oh, that's rich, coming from you!"

"Excuse me?"

"So you're going to pretend you haven't been doing things with other witches?"

"Of course I haven't!" Not really.

She sneered, a look wholly unbecoming on her. "Do me a favour and save your lies for someone who'll believe them!"

"Lies? Since when do I lie to you?"

"Oh, let me see if I can remember... _You have the most stunning eyes I've ever seen_. But remind me again, Draco—is it blue or brown you prefer?"

His mouth had fallen open. "Were you following me?"

She shook her head as if not believing his gall. " _Not_ the issue here. The issue is that you're a two-timing liar, so you can't criticise me!"

"And yet you'd have slept with me if I hadn't been rough," he saw it fit to point out.

"Hey, I invested a lot of time in you—might as well get some payoff."

That sounded disturbingly familiar to him. Was that really how he'd acted towards others in the past? "You heartless bitch."

"Says you."

"I wasn't two-timing. We were non-exclusive." _And nothing happened._ Somehow he didn't want to reveal that last bit. He didn't want to look like he was pining for Hermione.

"And yet you got pissed off that I went out with someone. Something doesn't match up here." She adopted a haughty, disdainful look that he'd never seen on her before.

Of course she was right. None of his feelings matched up and it was confusing and maddening. But, damn it, nothing had _happened_ with Jenny! Who knew what had gone on between Hermione and her toy boy?

"So we've both made mistakes," he said, trying to get back to status quo with her.

"Nuh-uh," she replied, violently shaking her head again. "You went out with a witch first and _you_ were an _arse_ first!"

That much was probably true. He raised an eyebrow at her, trying to make her see some humour in the situation. "Where have you been for the past seven years, Hermione? I've always been an arse."

She pursed her lips as if amused but not wanting to be. "As I said, you were an arse first. I didn't specify when."

"Yet you wanted me," he reminded her.

"It seemed logical at the time."

He couldn't help but laugh at that notion.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What exactly do you want from me?"

"Another chance." This was perhaps a bit too honest, but how else would he _get_ a second chance?

"Why? You weren't too thrilled about the first one."

"It grew on me."

"You scared me!"

He looked away. How could he defend that? "I know."

"So... what? We have sex once—"

"Might take two or three times to get the most out of it," he was quick to interject.

"—one _night_ , and then what?"

He shrugged. "Hey, this was all your idea."

"Hmh."

"You don't want to any longer?"

"Come to my room next Saturday after dinner and we'll _discuss_ it," she said.

"That's almost a whole week from now!"

"Take it or leave it."

* * *

To have sex or not to have sex, that was the question. Hermione found it extremely hard to find an answer to this question. She was obviously still very physically attracted to Draco, but he'd really scared her last time _and_ he'd had sex with that other girl.

She did her very best for the next six days to simply get over it. Forgiveness was a state of mind, right? She actually had a much easier time forgiving his rough approach to her last time than she did forgiving that he'd been with someone else. It didn't matter how often she told herself that this was stupid. She hated the thought of him touching anyone else, kissing them, doing all the things to them that he'd always refused to do to her.

_Why_ had he refused having sex with her until now? She'd somehow thought it meant he had abstained from sex altogether, but obviously that wasn't the case. He'd preferred to use his parts on someone else. And it stung.

She'd thought he wanted her. Or, rather, she'd _felt_ that he wanted her. That night he had spent in her bed, it had been pretty damn obvious that he'd had a hard time holding back. And then he'd simply gone and slept with someone else, right after their night of talking and kissing and even cuddling.

The thought made her sick. He made her sick. She made herself sick. She'd always known their fling was only some temporary physical thing, so why did she feel like this after one stupid night that didn't even include sex?

She was overreacting. After the thing with Ron, she was probably oversensitive to that kind of thing. Obviously she was no good at keeping things casual or having temporary breakups. She needed either a committed monogamous relationship or nothing at all.

But she could have that one night with Draco first. Didn't he kind of owe her that? And he seemed willing enough now. She only needed to keep her wand safely within reach so she could hex off his bits if he should become too rough again.

When the knock came on Saturday, she still wasn't prepared. She hadn't made any real decision about how to feel or what to do.

Still, she'd better open the door. So she did.

"Brown," he said.

"What?"

"You asked me if I preferred blue or brown eyes, and I thought about it. I prefer brown. They look... deeper."

She snorted. "Don't even try to go back to giving me lines."

"I'm not." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I especially like it when the eyes are so dark they're almost black. It looks very exotic and wise. I like people with brains and most blue-eyed girls I know are fairly vapid."

"You're seriously stereotyping people based on their eyes?" she had to ask.

"Hey, you asked my preferences and I gave them. Can I come in now?"

She stepped aside and let him in, closing the door behind him but making a point of not locking it.

"Ah," he said, looking at her face. "You don't look like you're in a very seductive mood today."

"I have my doubts," she admitted.

He sighed. "This is all so stupid. I should've gone for it when I had the chance."

"Why didn't you?"

"What?"

"Why didn't you go for it?"

"Because I'm stupid, obviously."

"No, I need a better reason than that, Draco."

He shook his head. "What does it matter now?"

"Tell me!"

"Uh, well, you know, you're the Head Girl and—"

"Bite me!" she said by way of interruption. She was so sick of all his half-arsed excuses.

"Excuse me?"

"That is _not_ your reason. Neither is bigotry. Give me the real explanation before I lose my patience with you and kick you out again."

He looked away. "You will anyway."

"Why?"

"Because..." He sighed, looking rather resigned. "Remember how I wasn't as experienced as I was given credit for?"

"Yes. But as far as I can tell, you're working hard at remedying that."

"But that's just it! I've never had sex. Ever. Not even once. Not even with Pansy!" He was beginning to look agitated, fidgeting and twitching as if he wanted to pace, but he couldn't both do that and keep eye contact with her at the same time, and right now he seemed determined to keep eye contact. He wanted her to believe this.

She stared at him until her eyes went dry and then rapidly blinked. "Why would you say that?"

"You wanted the truth."

"No, that _can't_ be the truth." There was so much evidence to the contrary! Or was it only hearsay? But how could he get a reputation like that without doing _anything_ to warrant it?

"It is."

"You don't kiss like a virgin," she rather tamely objected.

He snorted. "Neither do you."

"And I _saw_ you..."

"Do what? Have sex? Hardly. I kissed her and then changed my mind."

Her eyes widened. "Oh." So he hadn't done anything, after all? Except for a kiss, of course. And _intending_ to do something. Still... he'd changed his mind! The relief was immediate and so big she almost felt dizzy.

His cheeks flushed. "She wasn't my type, ok? I didn't want her. It had nothing to do with you."

"Of course." Hermione cocked her head and narrowed her eyes at him. "Just out of curiosity— _why_ are you still a virgin?"

His blush deepened. "It's a coincidence."

"I don't think so."

"No, it really is. It's harder to get most girls in bed than you'd think."

"Maybe it doesn't help that you keep turning down someone who is perfectly willing?"

"You were so damn insistent that you wanted me for my experience when I actually had none."

She supposed she had been. "So why not simply tell me that?"

"Are you joking? And risk having everyone know?"

"Or you could've slept with me anyway."

"I wanted to, but each time I got so excited that I knew I'd give myself away. The last thing my reputation needs is to have someone as well-known as you ridiculing my prowess or revealing my inexperience."

"Wow, you really don't think very highly of me, do you?"

"No. I mean, yes. I mean, I never said my fears were rational. And there was also the issue of disappointing you."

"Why would you care about that?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

She shrugged. Because he was Draco Malfoy and generally didn't care much about others? "You're here today and you didn't seem like you were going to tell me this willingly... So I guess you got over it, huh?"

"I figured you might not actually be a virgin yourself any longer after you went out with Mallory."

Really? He'd thought she'd sleep with Mallory like that? Well, she supposed that _had_ been the plan, but only because she'd thought he'd slept with someone else first! "Why would that matter?"

"It's the first time you remember, isn't it? Not the second. And if I really did botch it, I'd try again."

"And what if I'm still a virgin as well?"

He shrugged, looking mildly uncomfortable. "I'd do my best. I really would."

"But you didn't plan to tell me that you were a virgin."

"No. Because then you wouldn't give me the chance to try, would you? You wanted the Draco Malfoy the girls are whispering about in the corners. Not the real Draco Malfoy. Not me."

He really believed that? Hadn't he been _there_ for any of their snogging sessions when she'd all but whimpered with need? "That might have been true at first, but you could've told me the night you stayed here."

"Why would I risk that? It would've been much better to simply get rid of it."

Hermione clasped her mouth with her hand as the meaning of his words hit her. "Oh, my God. That other witch... you were trying to..."

"It doesn't matter," he interrupted her. "I couldn't do it, all right? Didn't want her. She was a poor choice."

"This is the stupidest thing I ever heard."

"Thank you."

"You really think you'd suddenly be a sex god after _one_ time? You do realise that these things take time and practice? Not to mention that statistically speaking, most teenagers—"

"I simply didn't want to be overwhelmed!"

"Overwhelmed?" She cocked her head.

He looked very uncomfortable at her renewed scrutiny. "Whenever I touch, feel, taste or smell something new, I'm about to lose it. I didn't want to embarrass myself, ok?"

"I think that would be sexy."

"Excuse me?"

"You getting so excited you lose it. I find that thought very sexy."

He snorted. "Wait until you try it and realise it leaves you unfulfilled."

"Why would I be unfulfilled? You can go again, right? And if you can't, there's always hands, fingers, lips and tongue... right?"

He stared at her. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you could manually stimulate me."

"That's not what I asked and you know it."

She pursed her lips. "Then I guess I'm saying that I'm still considering it."

* * *

It was probably his lust talking, but right now she was so pretty, not to mention much sexier than any witch in Muggle clothes had any right to be. He couldn't tell her, though, because she'd feel like he was using a meaningless line and become offended, eliminating his already slim chances.

Draco glanced away, only to have his eyes fall on the bed. He'd had fantasies about this bed and the girl before him so many times that he could already feel himself reacting. _Damn it._

"What do I have to do to convince you to do it?" he asked.

"First, you'll have to answer my question— _why_ haven't you had sex yet?"

"I already told you!"

"No, we had a very interesting conversation about why you haven't had sex with _me_ , but I don't buy that you couldn't get anyone to go to bed with you before."

She was far too observant, damn her. "It's true."

"That witch the other night seemed willing enough," she pointed out.

"I told you, I didn't really want her."

"That happen a lot?"

"What do you mean?"

"Seems to me that you don't enjoy it when it's too easy."

"And you've been _hard_?" It was probably a low blow, but it was hardly a secret who had been pursuing whom.

"Let's not forget that you've only really shown interest in me whenever I've intended to stop pursuing you," she reminded him.

"I suppose..."

"I'm right, aren't I?"

He sighed. "I don't know. Maybe. Shallow, stupid girls I can't talk to annoy me and leave me cold and that tends to make me really rude to them so they run off."

"You don't have to be stupid to be shallow."

"Maybe not, but most of the girls who want to sleep with me seem to be both."

She crossed her arms. "Does that include me, then?"

He blinked. "Of course not. You're neither."

"Pray tell how _me_ wanting to sleep with you suddenly isn't shallow."

He shrugged. "That's an easy one. You're doing it because you have an odd sense of logic and because you're sexually attracted to me. Most of the other birds in this place want to do it so they can brag about it to their friends."

She looked at him thoughtfully and then nodded. "You do make a strangely appealing case for yourself right now. In spite of your disdain for most girls around here."

"I'm... sorry?" He frowned. "I'm not certain I understand, though."

"You're stereotyping their motivations. It comes across as misogynistic."

He gaped at her.

She merely waved a hand. "Never mind. I can deal with a misogynist for a one-night-stand."

"I'm not quite certain what that word means, but I'm sure I'm not."

"Maybe I'll explain it to you later. Right now, _strip_!"


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione didn't bother to hide her smirk when Draco's eyes looked ready to pop out of his skull.

"Excuse me?" he sputtered.

"Yes, I do seem to excuse you a lot. I told you to strip."

He eyed her warily. "But—"

"I'm in charge here or nothing happens. After the way you scared me last time, I'm not taking any chances."

He immediately looked contrite. "Of course." Then he began hesitantly opening his shirt. "You know, this would be sexier if we were snogging meanwhile..."

"Or if you were doing a little dance." He stared at her again, horrified, and she couldn't help but laugh. "Relax, Draco, I'm only joking."

He seemed to relax somewhat and resumed his unbuttoning. "Could you be persuaded to take some of yours off as well?"

"Hmm..." She thought about it whilst running her hands down her sides and watching Draco's eyes begin to burn, no matter what he said about this not being sexy. "You get to choose one article of clothing that I will remove," she finally said.

"A pity you're not wearing your skirt today, because then I'd have said 'knickers'."

She bit her lip. Maybe if they were to do this some other time, it would be an option. "You have to deal with what's before you," she said, stretching out her arms and turning around." She was wearing common enough black trousers and a blue T-shirt with a modest square neck. It was regular clothes for her but possibly a little odd for him.

"I don't mind dealing with that..." he muttered. "All right, your bra."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "But in case you didn't notice, my bra is _under_ my T-shirt."

"Thank you for telling me. I did in fact notice, but I've decided that I want to see you in summer mode. Also, I don't want it to get in the way. You said I could choose, so off with it."

Summer mode? What was he talking about? For a second, Hermione didn't get it at all, and then she remembered. She'd told him how she sometimes went without her bra in summer. He'd really remembered that? Partly to conceal a blush and partly to make certain he didn't see more than she'd allow at the moment, she turned her back to him and began removing her bra without removing her T-shirt.

"This angle is rather nice as well," he murmured behind her, making her blush deepen.

Damn it! Why was she suddenly acting so shy? She had to get a grip. She wasn't shy and she was finally getting what she wanted, so it was time to make him blush instead!

* * *

Draco couldn't help his grin. Hermione was _finally_ showing more than a little modesty, not to mention shyness, and damn him if he wasn't enjoying it.

She turned back around, her breasts now slightly more bouncy, and narrowed her eyes at him. "What are you laughing at?"

"I'm not laughing. I'm smiling."

"Your smiles don't usually involve that amount of teeth and sound."

"Today they do." He pursed his lips, looking her over. "Would you mind... moving around a little for me?"

She raised an eyebrow at him and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not doing anything until you get a move on. You're even still wearing your shirt!"

He opened the last button and let it slide off his arms. "What shirt?"

"Belt."

"You're so bossy."

"And you like it. Open your belt."

He did like it, but he liked it even more when he caught her off-guard so she didn't have time to put on a front of impenetrable self-confidence. Still, he'd better let her have her way, so without taking his eyes off her face, he opened his belt and unbuttoned his trousers, before pushing them down and stepping out of them.

"Ooh," she said, her eyes firmly fixed at his groin. "I can tell you like this."

"Nah," he replied. "I like _you_."

That unbalanced her enough that she looked up at his face and caught his eyes. Then she shook her head. "No lines, Malfoy."

"You don't think I want you?" he incredulously asked.

"Yes, of course I do. But I don't think you _like_ me. Those are two very different things."

He stared at her in confusion. Hadn't she paid attention earlier? He thought he'd made it quite clear that there were several things about her that he both liked and lusted after. "Why don't we make a deal tonight, Granger."

"A deal?"

"Yes. We don't lie and we don't question whatever the other one says."

Her eyebrows immediately went up. "What kind of deal is that?"

"The kind that makes this go a whole lot better than me having to defend everything I say to you."

She nodded. "Point taken. Now take off your underwear. Oh, and socks too."

He stared at her. "No way!"

"Yes way."

"Hermione... You're still fully dressed!"

"Mm-hmm. The sooner you get undressed, the sooner you'll get to undress me."

He would get to...? Hesitantly, he pulled off his socks. "You really expect me to stand naked before you?"

"Yep."

"Will you stand naked before me, then?"

"Maybe later. If I get undressed now, the whole point of letting you choose one article of clothing that I should take off seems to be lost, doesn't it?"

"I don't mind."

"Of course not." She looked at him expectantly.

He sighed and pulled down his underwear, fighting the urge to cover up with his hands. If she wanted to see him, then she could bloody well see him without him giving her the satisfaction of being embarrassed about it.

"Ohh," she said, staring again. "How big are you? Do you know your measurements?"

He stared at her. "Do I... what? No, I don't know my bloody measurements."

She grinned. "Do you want to?"

"I swear to God, if you're going to whip out a ruler now..."

She held up her hands, all but laughing. "All right, all right... I guess we'll save that for some other time."

Some other time? He shot her an odd look. There wasn't supposed to _be_ another time, was there?

"All right, you've been a good boy... now get on the bed."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes, Madam Granger."

"You just be glad I don't have a whip. Or a ruler."

He couldn't help but laugh as he lay down on his back. "I didn't know you were into those kinds of things."

"Maybe I am," she said, straddling him. "I won't know until I try it, will I?"

He grinned at her logic but then pursed his lips and looked down her body. "Hermione... one request."

"Yes?"

"Could you please take off your trousers?"

"No, you already had one item removed."

"Please..." He slowly ran his hands up her thighs. "It would be so sexy with you in nothing but your knickers and shirt..."

"Hmm... will you be a good boy then?"

"Aren't I always?"

"No, not always." She gave him a very telling look.

Whoops. He'd momentarily forgotten about that. Talk about putting his foot in it at the wrong time. "I'll be a good boy. Or a bad boy if you want me to."

"Ooh, I like the sound of that!" she said, standing again to slowly unbutton her trousers.

"I like the _looks_ of that..."

She shot him a wicked smile and leisurely began pushing her trousers down her hips. She seemed to be wearing a pair of those sexy semi-covering knickers again. He didn't mind at all. She certainly had the bottom for it.

"This what you wanted?" she asked, raising her arms and slowly turning all the way around until she was facing him again.

"Uh-huh," was the most intelligent answer he could think of.

"Yes, it certainly looks that way," she said with another wicked smile and then she pounced on him.

"Ungh! Watch where you're landing," he half-heartedly objected. She hadn't hurt him when jumping him, but the way her knickers caressed him... How was he supposed to last through that? Maybe asking her to remove her trousers had been a bad idea.

"Shut up and kiss me," she said and bent down to initiate a kiss that became far too intense, far too soon.

He raised his hands to try to still her and maybe get her to give him a moment's respite, but found that he was suddenly touching very warm, very smooth skin. Her thighs. He ran his hands up over her hips to her waist and she squirmed a little in place.

He broke the kiss, gasping. "Hermione, slow down."

"No."

"Then we can't have sex."

She rolled her eyes. "Not that again."

"No, I mean... It feels so good..." He swallowed. "Too good."

"How many times can you usually come?" she asked, nibbling his neck.

How many times? What kind of question was that? "I don't know. I don't usually hold marathons."

"What's your record?"

"I think... four times."

"And how many times have you come today?"

"None... although in retrospect, that was probably stupid."

"Not at all. That should mean you can come at least twice and still have sex with me."

"Then it might take all night."

"What a coincidence! I _have_ all night!" She grinned at him.

He slowly shook his head in amazement. "You really are something."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No... not really. How many times can you come, then?"

"I think my record was five separate times, but once I get going I can come for a really long time."

His throat worked but his mouth was too dry to cooperate with the swallowing motion. "Really?" he finally croaked.

"Mm-hmm. After a while it's almost unpleasant. Like I become too sensitive and need a break."

"Uh-huh. So... how do you achieve this?"

"Last summer before the war, my cousin got me this... it's a Muggle device. Small thing that vibrates to stimulate the clitoris. It was meant as a joke, but..." She shrugged. "I decided to try it out. Unfortunately, it doesn't work here at Hogwarts and I don't know any spells to replicate it."

"That's... too bad." It really was. He would like to see her use that thing. The very thought of it... He pulled her head down to kiss her again. He needed to feel her. He ran one hand up her shirt to her breast and found it to be soft and naughtily peaking under the thin cloth.

"I was thinking..." she muttered against his lips. "Maybe we need more... foreplay?"

He drew back, giving her a puzzled look. What was this if not foreplay?

"I mean..." she said, her cheeks slightly pinkening. "I want to help you get... release."

Oh. "I... guess..." He felt both embarrassed and excited at the prospect. He'd really love for her to touch him, but he felt it might be slightly inappropriate to shout _FUCK, YES!_

"Maybe... Um..." She seemed to have a hard time voicing what she wanted. "Just lie back."

He nodded and she kissed him again, a little more gently this time, and then she trailed kisses down his neck and chest and stomach. The closer she got to his groin, the more he felt himself tensing up. He tried to relax, but he _really_ wanted her hands on him. He'd thought about it so many times. Her drawn out journey down his body was pure torture because it kept fanning the flame without giving him much relief.

"Please..." he groaned.

"I like it when you beg," she whispered against his navel.

He could believe that. He really could. "I'll beg you all night if you like, if you just..."

"Mind if I try something?" she asked.

Did he _seem_ like he'd mind? "No." As long as she did something, _anything_.

Finally a warm hand tentatively grabbed his shaft, testing the feel of it.

He was about ready to go off.

"It won't break," he grunted. "You can hold on tighter."

"Like this?" she asked and squeezed.

He couldn't help but laugh to himself. She was so innocent in her exploration. "Mm," he said, propping himself up on his elbows and still sporting a smile. "But generally, the stimulation is achieved by vertical movement."

She snorted and grumbled, "Smart-arse. Lie back!"

He did as told and was about to make another wise-crack, when he felt something tickle his thighs and then something hot and moist engulfed his glans.

_OH, FUCK, YES!_

* * *

Hermione would've smiled at Draco's reaction if her mouth hadn't currently been very busy. She'd read that men liked this and had figured she might as well see if she liked it as well. It was a little odd, though. She'd read that she should avoid scraping him with her teeth, but they were kind of in the way. As was her tongue. And she was trying very hard not to drool all over the place.

Hesitantly, she began massaging him with her hand and then attempting a combined rhythm with her mouth. He bucked, completely throwing her off her rhythm, making her disengage before she accidentally took an inch or two off him.

"Hey!" she objected. "Lie still!"

"You can't be serious about that..."

"If you don't lie still, any teeth marks come at your own risk."

He winced. "Ow..."

"I haven't done this before..." she muttered. "I hardly know what I'm doing as it is." It certainly felt like she was doing something wrong.

"Trust me, you're doing brilliantly."

She looked up. "Yeah?" Of course she'd felt his reaction, but it was still nice to hear him praise her efforts.

He nodded and swallowed, his glazed eyes lending truth to the statement. "Yeah... I'll try to behave if you'll please try not to bite me."

She grinned and attempted to tackle the beast, so to speak, once more. This time it was slightly easier, as there was a bit more lubrication and he remained very still, even though she could hear his erratic breathing and see the muscles in his stomach constantly tensing and relaxing.

It felt very sexy to be the one to make him react like this. It also felt very sexy to be able to feel and taste in her mouth exactly how close he was to bursting.

It made her unable to resist thinking about how it would feel to have him sliding in and out of her elsewhere. Would it hurt? Would she enjoy it right away? Would he get that look on his face again and grab the covers as if he were afraid of falling off the bed?

How would it feel to have him coming inside her?

She felt his hands on her hair, his fingers twitching a bit but not quite grabbing onto her. Instead, he pulled the hair back from her face, so he had a better view.

"So... bloody... brilliant..." he grunted.

She didn't reply. It was kind of hard to chit-chat like this, after all, so she simply kept going at a slightly faster speed.

She felt him tense and grab her arms and then he made a rather unintelligible sound right before something warm and oddly textured hit the back of her mouth.

She withdrew in surprise, enjoying the look and feel of his climax, but unsure what to do about... _it_.

"What?" he asked, when he had enough presence to notice her doubting look.

She held up a finger to say _just a second_ as she tried to get her throat to work and swallow. She couldn't do it. It was _warm_ and... it had living things in it and... once more making the _one second_ motion, she bolted from the room.

* * *

Draco felt back on the bed with a groan. That had certainly gone well. He wasn't exactly sure what had happened, but he didn't think that the witch running out of the room was supposed to be any part of a successful sexual act.

She came back a few minutes later, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

He stared at her. "What happened?"

She shook her head. "I just... had to clean my mouth."

"That bad, huh?"

She shrugged. "It was unexpected. Maybe it won't be a problem another time. But you should warn in the future to be safe."

In the future with _her_ , or in the future in general? Either way he supposed it was sound advice. "Yeah, I will." If he had the time for it. He'd only known he was coming right around the time it happened. "That was a mood-breaker, huh?"

"Nuh-uh..." She climbed back on the bed and took his hand to navigate it down between her legs outside her knickers as she lay down next to him. "It was _very_ exciting to see you come..."

"Yeah?"

"Mm-hmm... You looked like you very much enjoyed it."

"Sometimes your observational skills astound me, Hermione," he teased, feeling more relaxed around her than ever before. Who knew coming in her mouth could do that?

"Don't be cheeky!"

"I'd never..." he muttered, moving his hand a little and making her gasp.

"You shouldn't do that," she half-heartedly objected.

"Why not?"

"Because I want to save it for the sex. It's going to be harder for me than you to climax."

"But won't it hurt less if you're more relaxed?"

"Possibly..."

"I could see if I'm any good with _my_ mouth..."

"You are."

"How do you know?"

"I've kissed you."

With a reply like that, he had to kiss her again. Mmm... Sunshine and passion. And mint. He couldn't help but smile that she'd apparently brushed her teeth.

"A very talented mouth," she purred against his lips, pressing against him and making him aware of her curves once more, not to mention the hot damp place his hand was pressed against.

He moved it again and she withdrew slightly. "No! Bad Draco!"

"Admit it. You want me to be bad," he said with a grin.

"I want no such thing," she claimed, climbing onto him again, taking his wrists and pressing them down on either side of his head with her hands. "In fact, I seem to recall always asking you to be good."

"But that's not fair. You're very, very bad all the time."

"I get to be bad. I filled my goodness quota for a few years."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

"Intriguing. All right, then. I'll be good if you promise to be bad." He squirmed a bit under her to let her know that he wasn't unaffected by her.

Her eyes widened a little. "Haven't you ever heard about the refractory period?"

"The what?"

She snorted. "Guess not. Isn't it supposed to take a little longer before you can... go again?"

He made a small shrug. "I don't know if I _can_ right now, but I'd really appreciate it if you'd lean down and kiss me."

She did. And she even allowed him to pull one of his hands free, so he could run it up her torso to feel her through her shirt. She blocked his path when he wanted to go under the shirt, though.

"Please take it off," he whispered against her lips.

She pursed her lips in an unsuccessful attempt to hide her smile and shook her head.

"I didn't think bad girls were shy..."

"I'm not shy."

"No, that's right. One of the first things you did was flash me your breasts. So why not take it off now?"

"Because..." she muttered, placing little kisses on the edges of his lips. "You'll become very eager to touch me everywhere, and I already said I don't want to come yet."

"You'll have to take it off eventually... That and your knickers..."

"Mm-hmm... I will. When I'm ready."

He reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear so he could better see her. "Did you give any thought to how you want to do this?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... do you know what... position... will be easier on you?"

"Oh. Well. I'm not certain. I could find a lot of material on the general mechanics of intercourse and such, but I didn't really find a _How to Lose your Virginity in the Most Painless Way_."

He snorted. "You and your books. How do you _want_ to do it?"

"Before last time, I would've said with you on top."

He flinched. He deserved that one. "What if we try some kissing with me on top and you can tell me if it's unpleasant?"

She hesitantly nodded and climbed off him.

"Can you please also trust me enough to remove your T-shirt?" 

She bit her lip and fingered the edge of the shirt. "You'd better be trustworthy then."

"Of course."

She pulled it off and was finally down to only her knickers.

He very much appreciated that look on her.

He gently pulled her down next to him and then semi-covered her body with his, making sure to keep his weight on at least one of his elbows, so it wouldn't make her feel trapped.

Then he trailed one hand up her belly to her chest and gently caressed a breast. Much more gently than he knew he had last time. He'd been a real prick to her, then. "I really am sorry," he quietly said.

"I know. Don't worry about it."

He couldn't help the slight snigger. "You sound like a pushover now."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Me? A pushover? I think it's time you shut up and used that mouth for something you're actually good at."

"Yes, Madam Granger," he said like a very good boy and covered her lips with his, making certain she had absolutely no grounds for complaining in that area.

He quickly felt her hands move up his chest to massage his shoulders and then snake around his neck to draw him closer. She really did love her kissing, didn't she?

Reluctantly letting go of her breast, he sneaked his own hand down to feel her knickers again and she whimpered.

"No..." she said, shaking her head.

"Relax," he whispered. "I don't intend to try to make you lose control. I just... want to explore a bit."

Again, she reluctantly gave her consent, spreading her legs a little wider.

He was definitely up to performing again.

He let his finger follow the narrow lace trimming around the edges of her knickers, grinning when she jolted. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who could be ticklish. He then let one finger slip under the lace.

So hot. So damp. So irresistible.

Also, slightly confusing.

He actually wasn't quite certain exactly _where_ anything could... go in, so to speak. There seemed to be quite a lot of... decoys. Or maybe detours? He couldn't really tell what was what without looking more closely and he had a feeling she'd find that odd.

She grinned. "You look like one of those animals who knows they're supposed to do something during mating season, but can't quite figure out _what_."

He raised an eyebrow. "What animals would that be?"

"Really confused ones. Do you need any help? A map perhaps?" she teased.

He scowled at her. "Keep that up and nothing will happen."

"I'm sorry!" she said, giggling. "I really am. It was just that look on your face..."

"Uh-huh." He removed his hand.

"Aww, please don't be mad. Here, I'll take off my knickers." She did exactly that.

He was almost inclined to forgive her. "And where's my map, then?" he asked.

She took his hand. "I'll do better. I'll give you a guided tour."

Suddenly he couldn't remember why he was supposed to be offended. Her soft hand guiding him down between her legs completely filled his mind. She really did have a way of making a bloke forgive her.

* * *

Finding it best to hide her smile so she wouldn’t insult Draco again, Hermione made sure to bring his fingers near the exact spot he was probably looking for. “There...” she muttered.

“Will it hurt if I...?” He moved his fingers a little, seemingly itching to explore.

She shook her head. “Not as long as you’re careful and stop if I tell you to.”

Nodding, he very gently began exploring her folds, seeking out the source of the moisture and then hesitantly prodding a bit.

She couldn’t help but giggle again. “You can go further in than that.”

“But isn’t there a... thing... in the way?”

“It doesn’t completely cover up. How do you think I still bleed each month?”

“Ah.” He wrinkled his nose. “Speaking of bleeding from there isn’t all that sexy either.”

“That’s simply something you’ll have to deal with. I _am_ likely to bleed a little tonight... Depending on the nature of my hymen, of course. Many women don’t bleed at all. But then again, many women don’t have intact hymens even if they’re virgins. I checked mine, though. It seems very much intact.” Oops, she was rambling a little. But she needed something to distract her a bit from how nice his fingers felt.

“You... checked?”

“Yes, with a mirror. You want to see it?”

“The mirror?”

“No, silly. The hymen.”

“How can you—No, never mind. I don’t really fancy seeing it.” He shook his head.

“You really are easily scared by biology, aren’t you?” Score two for unsexy foot in mouth. Maybe she should ask him to gag her?

“It’s not _scary_ , just... odd.”

Odd? _Odd_? “It’s only odd because we’re taught to ignore the existence of female biology.” She gave him a challenging look.

He cleared his throat but didn’t rise to the challenge. “Right. Tell me if this gets uncomfortable.” He then slowly pushed one finger in.

It did sting a little, but Hermione didn’t comment on that. She’d have to take something both thicker and longer than the finger soon, so if anything, it was nice to have the waters tested a little first, so to speak. Also, apart from the sting, it felt _really_ nice.

“How’s that?” he asked, his voice hoarser.

“New. Exciting. Arousing. Slightly strange. How does it feel for you?” She could hear her own voice had become rather breathless.

“Like I’m going to come the second I put anything but a finger in there.”

He was that worked up? For her? “Yeah?”

He nodded and rested his forehead against hers. “Some sex god I’m turning out to be, huh?”

“You’re doing quite well so far.”

“You’re so wet.”

“Exactly.”

“I want you so much.”

“I know. I can feel you.” She reached down to caress his length resting against her thigh.

He shivered a little but then sighed and removed his finger from inside her. It left her feeling empty and eager to be filled up again. “But I’m afraid to do it.”

That stumped her. “Why?”

“Despite of what it might’ve seemed last I came here, I don’t actually want to hurt you physically.”

“This isn’t something you can help.” She shook her head. He was making it sound like he was choosing to inflict pain on her. He wasn’t. He was choosing to _have consensual sex_ with her, which would incidentally the first time result in a little pain. And if he was going to have second thoughts now, she would scream.

“What if I lose control and do it too roughly?”

“Then it hurts a little more," she conceded. "But it’ll pass.”

“Maybe you should be on top.”

She shook her head again. “No, I don’t want to do that. I read that when the woman is on top, the man enters her more fully, and if you were to buck up against me, I think it would be even more painful.”

He groaned. “Is there no way to get rid of that thing before sex?”

“There is. But I prefer having an actual human being to cling onto.”

“I want it to be good,” he muttered.

“It will be.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“Because when is it ever not good between us?”

“But—” She covered his mouth with her hand before he could finish his next objection.

“Draco, it’s really very sweet of you to have concerns,” she said. “In fact, I never thought you would have. But it’s time to forget those and go for what you want—what _we_ want.”

He removed her hand. “Yes, Madam Granger. Did you remember to use a spell?”

“I used three.”

He blinked. “Why?”

“In case one didn’t work.”

“But then you’d only need two!”

“I figured that if one didn’t work, then there was also a chance that _two_ didn’t work. It would be rather unlikely for three not to work, though.”

He stared at her and then burst out laughing. “Seriously, Hermione. Never change.”

He kept saying that. What exactly did he mean by it? That she shouldn’t change so he had something to laugh at or that she shouldn’t change because he _liked_ the way she was?

“Don’t frown at me like that,” he murmured, kissing her again. “Three spells is good. It’s... safe.” He grinned against her lips.

“You’ll thank me when I don’t become pregnant.”

He laughed again.

She swatted his shoulder. "Don't laugh at me!"

"Oh, but it's all right for you to laugh at me?"

"Of course."

"Because you filled your goodness quota?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "See, we understand each other."

He shook his head. "I'll never understand you, but that's one of the things I like about you."

"What else do you like about me?" she asked, cocking her head.

"Fishing for compliments, are we?"

"Absolutely! Tell me about my legs."

"Sexiest things I've ever tossed off to."

She gaped at him and then couldn't help a short giggle. "Really? To my legs?"

"I can't deny that my fantasies might've gone a little further, but it all centred on where I'd like your legs... Speaking of which..." He grabbed onto her thighs and shifted his lower body so he was placed between them.

She gasped in surprise at how intimate that felt. He looked a little stunned himself but still managed a smirk.

He always seemed to regain some confidence when she let him take charge, even if it was only in small ways. Hermione felt the same way about citing books and research, and she was glad he so far hadn't called her a know-it-all tonight for her random facts, since they were an effective way for her to keep any insecurities at bay.

"Oh, my," she breathed.

"This is... not unpleasant, no."

She had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at him. Not unpleasant, indeed. She could feel the way he was tensing against her to hold himself back.

"Shut up and kiss me," she grumbled and grabbed his hair to drag his head down.

"I thought you'd never ask," he teased, right before their lips clashed.

If his tension hadn't given him away, the kiss would have. There was no languid, teasing build-up this time. Instead, he immediately took the chance to deepen the kiss and pressed his entire body against hers, slightly moving against her in a way that was driving her out of her mind, fast.

She'd never realised how good a bit of rubbing could feel until she'd rubbed against him.

She attempted to take over the kiss by tangling her hands more firmly in his hair and stroking his tongue with hers, but he quickly shut that down, kissing her so aggressively that it was all she could do to keep up.

Finally, she had to break the kiss because she felt like she wasn't getting enough air and was getting rather dizzy. "Draco!" she gasped.

"Mm?"

"I need you. _Now!_ "

He nodded, tensing up again. "All right... Guided tour, please."

She looked at him quizzically and he flashed her a weak grin before untangling one of the hands she'd all but forgotten in his hair and leading it down between them. "Help me, sexy witch."

_Oh!_ She felt herself blush a little, but did as he asked, helping him to position himself.

"Any last requests?" he teased.

"Try... not to go too fast. Or be too rough."

He nodded and then pushed slightly forward.

"Ok," she said when he seemed hesitant to use enough force to actually break through anything, "you can be a little rougher than that."

He nodded again, and then when he moved, it suddenly began hurting. She gasped and dug her fingers into his shoulders without even realising she'd grasped them, and he immediately stopped.

"N-no," she said, clenching her jaw a bit. "It's all right. Just... unusual. Go on."

She did her best to bite back the worst of the discomfort, but a small whimper still escaped her.

He groaned. "Damn, Hermione... I know you only made that sound because I'm hurting you, but..." He swallowed and stayed very still.

She nodded, biting the inside of her cheeks. To him this felt very differently and his body might choose to interpret sounds in a different way. "You enjoy it when girls make noises, then?"

"Apparently so," he muttered. "Although I'd like to think that I prefer them to be of pleasure."

"They will be in a minute," she assured him.

He shook his head a bit sadly and kissed her collarbone. "You needn't lie about that."

"I'm not. It's already beginning to feel good. I'm a little sore, but I like having you in me."

"Trust me," he whispered. "I like being in you."

"You can begin to move now..."

He shook his head again, this time very insistent. "No. We need to give it another minute."

"But—"

"Give it another minute, Hermione, or I'll come."

"Really?"

* * *

Draco looked into Hermione's eager, lust-darkened eyes, trying very hard to ignore her flushed cheeks, and suppressed another groan. "Yes, really," he managed.

"How does it feel?" she prodded.

How did it feel? Bloody amazing, that was how it felt! She was so tight and warm and wet that he wasn't certain he could live through this. And every once in a while, she'd squirm a little, trying to get comfortable, and he'd get another sensory overload and do his very best not to give in to it.

"Good," he grunted.

"You can come if you want to," she said.

This time he couldn't suppress his groan. _If_ he wanted to? Didn't she have the slightest inkling of how hard it was to hold back?

"I liked it when you came before," she said in a low voice. "I wished I could've seen your face when it started."

He attempted to laugh. "I doubt it's that charming."

"It's honest. It's ecstasy. I want to see it."

He bent down and kissed her to make her shut up with her sexy requests. "You'll see it soon."

"All right... Has a minute passed yet?"

He grunted again, this time half out of exasperation, half out of amusement. She was going to push until he gave her what she wanted, so he carefully began moving again. "Do you like that?"

"Ohh, yes..." she breathed, grabbing onto his upper arms. "It doesn't really hurt any longer."

"Really?" He felt sweat beading on his forehead. He was so close. _So close._ Maybe it could distract him if she kept talking.

"I'm a little sore and desensitised, but overall it feels... so... _good_."

He only wished he were sore and desensitised. Maybe then he could keep this up for longer. "How do you want to come?" he whispered. He knew he was only torturing himself. He wouldn't last long enough for her to get there right now, and any image of her coming was bound to set him off straight away.

"With you kissing me..."

She had to know how she affected him. She had to. With a strangled sound, he lowered his head to kiss her again, going half out of his mind with the added stimulation of his tongue and lips. It didn't help that she was squirming even worse and running her hands down his back to his arse and pressing him up against her, begging him with her body to give her more, more, more...

His orgasm didn't come as a surprise this time. He knew exactly when he lost control and his movements became less controlled, less careful, less coordinated... But there was nothing he could do about it. He was already coming. He needed the feeling to last, so he needed to go on, to feel more, before it was over.

He squeezed his eyes shut, quite overwhelmed with how _complete_ this climax felt. He could feel it in his entire body, draining him of all his energy and leaving him with a massively satisfied feeling.

So, this was sex.

No wonder it was such a big deal.

When he finally opened his eyes again, he looked straight into Hermione's. She was watching him, looking extremely pleased with both of them.

"That looked... nice..." she said, slightly short of breath.

He nodded. What about her, then? How did one ask one's partner what to do about them since one had failed to get them to climax during sex?

"Could you, um..." she began, blushing a little, "I'm noticing that you still feel a little..."

He waited for her to go on, but she couldn't seem to find the words. "Yes?" he prodded.

"Can you move a little more before you go... you know... or is that painful?"

She wanted him to move inside her for a minute or so until he lost his erection? He tried flexing his hips. No, it didn't seem uncomfortable, so he complied.

She threw her head back. "Oh, yes, that's nice..." she whispered, and he felt her hand moving down between them. "Don't stop."

He didn't plan to. He liked that look on her face and would gladly keep doing this until he was raw if that was what it took.

Apparently it took much less.

With her touching herself and him trying to gauge what kind of movements she enjoyed the most—and getting randy enough to wonder if he'd be physically able to continue into next round without actually needing a break—she was soon squirming and begging him to go faster.

And then she made a very specific kind of gasp and moan that he somehow knew what meant, and he made certain to kiss her that very moment so she got what she'd requested. She showed her appreciation of that by throwing her arms around him and continuing to kiss him for several minutes.

For a first time, it really hadn't gone that badly, if he had to say so himself.


	9. Chapter 9

The first thing Hermione noticed when she awoke was that she was lying on her stomach, naked, only partially covered by her duvet.

The second thing she noticed, when she moved, was that she was sore between the legs.

And the third thing she noticed was that Draco Malfoy was in her room, getting dressed.

She looked at the time. It was still very early, and it was Sunday to boot. "Why in such a hurry?" she groggily asked, startling him.

"I'm not in a hurry," he said, looking away and finishing buttoning his shirt. "I'm simply awake."

"And you were just going to leave? Like last time?"

"Didn't really see any point in waking you up."

She couldn't help but feel a little hurt about that. He preferred to make her wake up to an empty bed rather than say goodbye to her?

"Well, I'm awake now," she said, sitting up and wincing. It really hadn't felt that bad yesterday, but today it felt like she should keep to padded seats.

"You don't have to be. I'll be out of your hair in a minute."

He still didn't look at her. What was wrong? It was silly, but it almost felt like he was withdrawing from her, attempting to avoid her even though they were the only ones in the room.

"Draco?"

"Yeah?"

"Why won't you look at me?"

He finally reluctantly turned his gaze to her, and what she saw there gave her a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. He looked... bored. Done.

"You aren't coming back, are you?" she whispered.

"What would be the point of that?" he asked, running his fingers through his hair to give it a semblance of being under control. "We already did what we set out to do. Neither of us are virgins any longer. It's time for you to forgive your Weasley and for me to finally dive into the pool of witches we have here in this place."

"You said you were turned off by most of their vapidity."

"And as I recall, you called me a name because of that. And believe me, that will change now that I know what sex feels like. It's brilliant!"

She swallowed and nodded. They'd achieved their goal. There was nothing else to gain. Apparently, once was enough to get it out of his system, so who was she to ask him to do it again? He'd done enough.

"Please close the door properly on your way out," she said, lying down with her back to him and listening for the click that signalled that he was gone before burying her face in her pillow.

At least he'd had one point in what he'd said. She'd need to sort things out with Ron. She needed to send him an owl. Today.

* * *

Draco took his sweet time walking back to his dormitory. He didn't really need to go back to bed, because he _was_ fairly awake right now although he probably could've easily slept another hour or two in Hermione's bed if he'd been able to allow himself to.

It had felt so very nice to simply lie there, holding her close, feeling her skin against his. It had felt too nice. He'd been jolted awake by the realisation that he seemed to be developing some rather tender feelings for her.

It was bad. It was very bad. She couldn't be more wrong for him. If anybody knew about his feelings, he'd become a social pariah based on that alone. And Hermione wouldn't even _want_ that. She'd made it clear what she wanted—sex. Sex to get even with her boyfriend.

True, she'd enjoyed the sex and had seemed like she wouldn't mind having more of it with Draco, but... he couldn't. Not when he was already having bloody feelings for her. He needed to walk away and not look back.

He needed to ignore these feelings so they'd die.

If he was lucky, they were simply a bi-product of the sex. It had felt so good that he now felt infatuated. That could be it, right?

Except he'd just realised he'd felt it before sleeping with her without knowing it. That was why he'd felt like it had to be _her_.

If only he'd seen this sooner, then he might've been able to avoid feeling this down about walking away. He might've had the presence of mind _not_ to sleep with her and he wouldn't have known what it would be like to be so intimate with her and holding her naked body pressed against his all night.

He wouldn't have the knowledge that he'd been her first and it had meant fuck-all to her. He'd been nothing but a disposable dildo. He'd even almost been replaced by that Mallory bloke.

The very thought made him nauseous.

He had the worst taste in girls. The _worst_.

At least he'd escaped with his dignity intact.

* * *

_Dear Ron._

Hermione stared at her parchment. She'd been staring at it for hours already. How _did_ one write a letter like this? All she seemed to be able to get right was the _Dear Ron_ part. Pathetic.

She'd also been half-hoping that Malfoy would seek her out here at the library, but of course he wouldn't. If he changed his mind, it wouldn't be this soon. Besides, she hardly needed to be his fuck buddy that he could seek out whenever nobody else was around to soothe his itch.

It hurt to be that easily discarded, even though she knew that was what she'd claimed—and thought—she'd wanted. She couldn't blame him for not wanting more. There had never been any promises. Only lust.

It wasn't his fault that she'd felt more last night. That she'd found him so sweet and sexy that she'd briefly entertained the idea of getting to know him a little better. Seeing what other sides of him there were.

She guessed she _had_ seen another side of him. The way he'd walked out on her had been... cold. After what had happened between them only a few hours earlier, he'd been able to look through her as if she were nobody to him. As if they hadn't shared anything worth sharing.

It was very likely that it had been one-sided. She'd heard about that several times, but never understood how such a thing could be one-sided without the person _knowing_ that it was. Now she did.

"You asked me to come here?" Ginny's hushed voice said as she took a chair next to Hermione.

Hermione nodded, forcing her mind back to the matter at hand. "This may be a bit awkward for you, but I need to write to your brother. It's taking me all day and I could use some help."

"Oh? What are you writing him?"

Hermione hesitated. "I suppose what I want to tell him is... not to wait for me."

"Really? Are you certain about that?"

Hermione nodded, swallowing her doubts. Draco had had another point, after all. Sleeping with someone else to even out her relationship with Ron had been a really bad idea, and it didn't bode well for a future relationship that she'd felt like she had to do it. She needed to end it. She needed to let Ron go so they could both—eventually—find someone they were better suited to.

"I couldn't forgive him on my own," she whispered. "It can't be helped. But I don't know how to tell him that."

"Are you doing this because you want to be with someone else?"

"No." Well, yes. Maybe. Sort of. But it didn't actually matter.

"Then I don't see why you can't give the two of you another chance."

"Because I did something incredibly petty and that's not the kind of relationship I want. Besides... I still don't think I've forgiven him completely. I'd rather be his friend than be in such an emotionally draining relationship with him. But I don't know how to tell him that and actually make him want to still be friends."

"Oh. I can see that. Let's brainstorm then."

Sometimes Hermione felt like she really undervalued Ginny as a friend. That certainly wouldn't happen again after this.

* * *

Draco stared at Theo, who had the misfortune to be sitting in the Slytherin common room right at that moment. Draco really loathed Theo. He wasn't certain why. It might be because Theo was bonking Draco's ex. Or possibly it was merely because Theo was a very, _very_ annoying human being who liked to make smug and far too accurate calls about others' decisions.

"What?" Theo asked after several minutes.

"I don't like you."

"I figured that when you booby-trapped my bed six months ago."

Busted. Somehow Draco couldn't care less. "Ah. You knew that was me, then?"

Theo snorted. "Who else?"

"Right." He resumed his staring.

" _What?_ "

"I simply... _really_ don't like you."

Theo sighed. "Are we going to do this all night?"

"That's what _she_ said!" Draco smirked, feeling rather good about being so childish.

"Then no wonder you're in such a crabby mood," Theo immediately shot back.

Draco's smile faded and he scowled at Theo. "Well, I suppose I'd best get going," he said, getting up.

"Oh, do you have to? I'll miss you dreadfully," Theo deadpanned.

"I'd love to stay and chat, but I have a date with your girlfriend."

Theo raised an eyebrow. "Pansy?"

Draco nodded. "Yes... Something about being madly in lust with me and needing to see me somewhere dark and private. Come to think of it, I don't think I was supposed to tell you about it."

"So she's helping you with your Potions homework again, huh?"

Draco scowled once more. Insufferable git. It would be nice if Theo would for once have the _tiniest_ bit of doubt in his girlfriend.

Leaving the Slytherin common room, Draco strolled down to the Potions classroom, where his ex was impatiently waiting for him.

"You're late," she immediately said.

"Sorry. I had a deep and meaningful conversation with your boyfriend."

She rolled her eyes. "Sooner or later you'll have to stop bothering him all the time."

"I prefer it to be later."

She bared her teeth at him, but of course never withdrew her offer to help him with his homework. Guilt at its finest. "So," she said, "Once again, you've managed to land yourself an extra essay. Congratulations!"

"Hey! I don't try to do that!"

"I honestly don't see why you aren't better at keeping your gap shut even after several months."

Draco found that to be extremely unfair. He kept his gap shut all the time! "I merely suggested to this _really_ ugly bloke whose name escapes me that the best bet he had with the girl he was mooning after would be—"

Pansy held up her hand. "I can guess. Your note _does_ say you were instructed to come here and 'poke' Slughorn's Amortentia that he'd leave out and then write seventeen and a half inches about it. Didn't we do love potions a long time ago?"

Draco groaned. "Yes! And can you believe that? Seventeen and a half inches!"

"Then best get to work!" She went over to the cauldron. "What do you see?" she asked.

He explained the mother-of-pearl sheen and other characteristics in a dull voice whilst scribbling down half-hearted notes. Couldn't he copy this out of a book?

"What do you smell?" she then asked.

He glared at her. "I think that's too personal to put in an essay."

"Seventeen and a half inches, Draco. I think your best approach is to smell it and build your essay up around why you think you smell those things."

"Um, because I love them?"

She sighed. "Amortentia is not actually about _love_ , Draco."

"It isn't?"

"No! I mean, you _can_ love what you smell, but it's generally only what you're most drawn to." She took a deep breath and smiled. "One of my favourites is pancakes."

"Aww. And here I thought I really _loved_ sex," he sarcastically said.

"You don't smell sex."

"Do too!"

"Are you really going to put that in your essay?" She shot him a don't-be-stupid look.

"Hey, I _said_ it was too personal..."

"You're impossible. Then let's find another—"

"Hey, Pansy?" he suddenly said.

"What?"

What, indeed? He wasn't entirely certain what he'd intended to say to her. Maybe this was as good a time as any to signal to her that she wasn't to blame for his surly self. "Why don't you leave? I got this. Go be with your boyfriend."

"No, I promised I'd help and—"

"You don't get it, do you?" he cut in. "There's no reason for you to feel so guilty. I never blamed you for leaving me for him. It was the better choice."

That stopped her in her tracks. "What?"

"I forgave you almost immediately. You only hurt my pride a little."

Her jaw fell open and she sputtered, "That's not true! Since then, you've been after Theo every chance you got! And you haven't exactly been kind to me either!"

"No, but to be quite fair, you're smothering me. And you're so disgustingly happy and in love and both so secure in one another..." That was the only thing he was jealous of. He never had anything like that. "Why wasn't it like that with us?"

"But you and I—"

"Never had that. We both know this. I'm not saying we never had feelings for each other, but it was less... solid."

"I see." She folded her arms. "But if you're so envious of love, then how come that's not what you 'smell'?"

He stared at the cauldron, the scent of sunshine and passion clear to him, even though he couldn't explain how. "Oh, I fear it is..."

* * *

Draco Malfoy was everywhere and it made Hermione miserable. She could somewhat forget what had happened and how she'd felt about it as long as she didn't have to be reminded that he existed—but there he was! In her classes, walking her halls, eating in her Great Hall. It was almost as if he lived at the same school.

She even saw him at the library a few times, but he never talked to her or even acknowledged her. Not even once. He acted like she didn't exist and she hated that feeling.

She wished she'd never decided to come on to him.

She wished she'd never as much as kissed him.

She wished he'd kept saying no to her.

Most of all, she wished that she'd managed to stay true to herself and keep her feelings out of this.

She didn't need to feel this way about someone who didn't give a rat's backside about her. He'd been in lust with her, yes, but as soon as that lust had been sated, he'd obviously found something—or someone—more interesting to do. She deserved better.

She'd certainly learned her lesson. She couldn't be casual about sex. Some people had the luxury of not getting attached, but evidently not her. She supposed there wouldn't be a second time for her until she found someone she could fall in love with. But in order to do that she had to fall out of—

Well, really, she wouldn't call it _love_ , this thing. More like... infatuation. And a burning desire for him to smile at her again. And kiss her. And hold her at night.

Bah.

This was so unfair. And now she saw him flirting with other girls, and each time it added another cut to an already open wound, but there was nothing she could do, nothing she could say, so she simply had to pretend the wound didn't exist.

She really needed a cure for this. And fast.

* * *

Slughorn had had it in for Draco all year, so he generally had to make the trip to the Potions classroom at least once a week for some stupid extra project or other. He could technically refuse, but he needed good statements from his teachers, so he had to jump whenever asked to. It was odd, really. Professor Slughorn had used to avoid Draco like the plague, but now it was like he felt the need to try to improve on the youngest Malfoy by assigning him extra work and keeping him out of trouble.

This Monday was no different.

Except that when Draco entered the Potions classroom, someone else was there.

"Hermione?" he asked before he realised what he was doing. So much for pretending they weren't in the same dimension.

She turned around so fast she almost dropped what she was holding. "What?" she stammered. "I mean... You aren't supposed to be here!"

"I have a deal with Slughorn," he replied. "What are _you_ doing here?" He narrowed his eyes, focusing on the phial of brown liquid she was trying to hide. "What's that?"

"Something I... need. An antidote for someone. Slughorn said I could have it. Carry on!" 

She attempted to brush out past him, but something was off, so he quickly swiped the phial from her. "Doesn't look like an antidote."

"Give it back!" she quickly said, attempting to grab it, but he kept it outside her reach, contemplating the colour. It was rather murky. "I swear," she said, her voice slightly quivering, "if you don't give it back, I'll report you!"

He looked down at her. "I don't think you can do that," he softly replied. "Because I don't think you're supposed to take this."

"Want to test me?"

"I know what this is, Hermione. I had to include it in an essay last week." In order to reach his seventeen and a half inches about love potions, he’d included something about how it was cancelled out by hate potions and vice versa. It had gone surprisingly well and Slughorn had awarded him an _Exceeds Expectations_ for his observations.

But there really weren't that many other uses for hate potion than to reverse the effects of a love potion or, alternately, try to fall out of love with someone. It didn’t actually make you hate the other person, it just made you able to see their worst flaws. It was a good way to help cure an infatuation.

She deflated a little. "It's for a friend. She's rather badly off. So can I please just have it?"

"And did this friend accidentally drink a love potion?"

"Yes!"

"It'll wear off. You don't need this, then."

"Damn it, Draco!"

He shook his head, not quite understanding. "I thought you were happy getting back with Weasley. Why do you want to fall out of love with him?"

She stared at him and then shook her head. "It's not for me."

"We both know it is."

She watched him for an unnervingly long time. "You're right. But what can I do? He _cheated_ on me. I want it to be gone, Draco. Please give it to me."

Something didn't add up. "You cheated right back."

"That _wasn't_ cheating. And, besides, he... he did it again, all right?"

He stared at her in disbelief. "He did it _twice_?" What kind of idiot would keep throwing something that good away?

"Shh, not so loud. Can I have it now?"

"How can you still love that arsehole after what he did to you?"

"I don't know! But that's why I want the cure!"

He hesitantly handed it to her. "He doesn't deserve you."

She snorted as she grabbed the phial. "Believe me. I know."

"You shouldn't have to drink this vile thing to get past him."

"I know that too," she said, opening the phial. "Cheers!" Then she drank deeply. He winced in sympathy when she pulled a face. "Oh, God," she said, all but retching. "That _is_ vile!"

"Worse than sperm?" he couldn't help but ask, grinning.

She shot him a shocked look but seemed to quickly recover. "Far worse."

"Well, in that case, it's good to know that you'll eventually learn to swallow." He really shouldn't tease her like that but... he couldn't help it. He'd like to think that it _didn't_ have anything to do with the steps she'd just taken to free herself of Weasley.

"Oh, crap," she groaned.

"What?"

"Shouldn't this be instantaneous?"

"Yes, it should."

She made another face. "Then apparently I saw y—his faults quite clearly before. At least I don't feel any change yet."

"No change at all?" He was strangely disappointed. "Perhaps you love him too much." True love would be loving someone no matter their flaws, wouldn’t it? He had no doubt that Hermione was capable of loving Weasley that way. After all, she’d gone to great lengths to forgive him that he’d lost his virginity to someone else.

"I really hope not." She sounded rather miserable at that prospect.

"If it doesn't begin to work, I guess you'll have to get over him the old-fashioned way."

"Yeah..." she muttered. "I guess. It's simply not that easy, you know?"

"I definitely know," he replied. "Everyone's tried it, I think."

"Even you?"

"Of course.”

"Ah, Pansy."

"Yeah... Pansy..." He could hardly tell her the truth. How would that even go? ' _Oh, hey, sorry that you're struggling with getting over your misplaced love for your ex, but does it help that I love you and wish you could be mine?_ ’ No. He certainly didn't think so.

* * *

Who would’ve thought that taking a hate potion, whilst looking the bugger straight in the face and having everything that should make him undesirable made clear to her, would do exactly _nothing_.

Hermione already knew Draco was an unapologetic bigot. She already knew he could be cruel. She already knew he’d manipulate anyone to achieve his own goals. She already knew he’d done awful things during the war. She already knew he’d rather mess about than be with her. She already knew he wasn’t opposed to telling pretty lies. She already knew he regarded witches as mere objects. She already knew... she already knew everything, and being reminded did nothing.

She still saw that gentleness in him and missed it. And she missed his teasing and caresses and the way he warred with her cat over the pillow.

She hated being so weak.

The hate potion had been an act of desperation. A way to cleanse herself. And it had failed.

Now she didn’t know what to do.

* * *

“Tell me again why you’re still helping me,” Draco said to Pansy, who was walking with him to the library. “Don’t get me wrong, I love rubbing spending time with you in your boyfriend’s face, but I thought we’d cleared up all this guilt of yours.”

“I’m not doing it because I feel guilty, stupid. I’m doing it to be a friend," she huffed.

“Ah. Friend.” He frowned. “You know, I don’t think I have any of those.”

She swatted the back of his head. “I just told you that I am one, you arse!”

“Hey!” He ducked. _Why_ did witches always want to hit him? “Sorry. I meant any _other_ friends.”

“Of course you don’t. You’re a complete tosser to anyone who tries to befriend you. You prefer to have minions.”

She'd certainly developed a habit of scolding him lately. Maybe she was a bit annoyed that he'd let her feel guilty for so long for no reason.

“That sounds about right,” he mildly replied.

“But I think that you’re actually lonely.”

“Of course you do. You’re a girl.”

She swatted his head again—harder this time.

“Ow! Watch it!”

“I’m going to beat that attitude out of you sooner or later.”

“But it’s true!" he insisted. "You birds always think there’s some kind of deep, meaningful reason behind everything. Why do you think I get away with being such a tosser?”

“So you’re going to deny that you’re lonely?” she challenged.

“I’m fine.”

“So I haven’t actually seen you go out of your way to be near people lately?”

“It doesn’t mean that I’m lonely merely because I can’t stand being alone.”

She snorted and shot him a sideways glance. “Uh, it kind of does.”

“Oh. No... I don’t think so.”

“You know what I really think?”

“What?”

“I think you fancy someone and it’s making you depressed.”

He felt himself shut down in the face of this topic. “And I think this conversation is over.”

“You don’t have to tell me who.”

“Good.”

“But there is someone, right?”

“Not going there, Pansy.”

“Sometimes talking about it helps,” she coaxed.

“And what exactly should I say?”

“Is it because she doesn’t want you?”

“Yes.” It was surprisingly easy to admit like this. Also, maybe that would let Pansy remember some tact.

“That’s the worst... I’m sorry.”

“That’s all right. It's my own fault.”

“Now you’re being silly. You can’t control who you fall for.”

He snorted. “That's not true. I could’ve controlled some of the situations leading up to it. I could’ve avoided her. I could’ve turned her down. I could’ve stayed out of her bed...”

“Wait, you slept with her?”

“Like I said, I was asking for it.”

“She only wanted sex?”

“Yeah. At least with me.” Besides, he could hardly imagine what it would be like to actually be _involved_ with her. His family certainly wouldn't approve. But maybe those kisses would be worth it...

“How did she react when you told her how you felt?”

He snorted a surprised laugh. “What, are you stupid? I couldn’t tell her that.”

“Then how can you be certain she doesn’t want you?”

“Because she was running straight back to her ex after. And she’d said so multiple times before that. Only sex. Only one night.”

"Hmm..."

"What?"

"You know me and Theo?"

"Are you going to preach based on your superior knowledge about relationships?"

"Shut up. No, I'm not. But... that's kind of how Theo and I started."

"What?"

"Well, obviously you weren't my ex. But I kept saying that each meeting would be the last, that I'd return to you and be the girlfriend I felt you deserved."

He glared at her for a moment before saying, "You're making this up, aren't you?"

"No! I felt so guilty for betraying you after all those years. It wasn't until you caught us and Theo told me I had to choose between the two of you that I realised I _had_ a choice. We'd been together for so long that I thought I owed you to stay with you."

Lovely! He'd been an obligation! "She doesn't feel obligated to stay with him."

"Are you so certain about that?"

"Yeah, because they're breaking up now anyway."

"And you don't think you have anything to do with that?"

He shook his head. "No, she said he cheated on her."

"So you talked to her about this?"

"Only because I caught her stealing a hate potion."

"Ouch."

"And she even said it didn't work. How can I compete with some wanker who can keep sleeping with other witches and still have her love him?" It was so unfair. He'd already proven that he _couldn't_ do that, even if he wanted to.

"He's done it before?"

"In a way. It's complicated, all right?"

"Now I kind of want to know who she is."

"Not on your life."

"But it sounds like she realised on her own that he's bad for her. How do you know she's ruling you out as a prospect?"

"Because... she has a lot of reason to do that. We're a really bad fit."

"How so?"

"That's also complicated." To say the least.

"Is she a half-blood?"

Close enough. "What if I said yes?"

"Then I'd ask you how much you love her."

"Why? What does it matter?"

"Does the purity of your lineage really matter more to you than your own happiness?"

"Easy for you to say. You fell for a pure-blood."

She shrugged. "I told you sleeping around like that would come back to haunt you."

"It certainly did. Aren't you happy now?"

"No. Why doesn't she want you, then? Because of your attitude towards blood status?"

"That's some of it."

"Obviously, you'll have to choose between her and those ideals."

"A choice that could cost me my family, all my friends—"

"I thought we agreed that you only have one friend. Me."

She had a point there. "Would you stand by me?"

"Certainly."

"Would Theo allow that?"

"Theo knows better than to think he has a say in what I can and cannot do," she calmly stated, making Draco almost feel sorry for Theo. But only almost.

"But could it cost you your relationship to sympathise with a blood traitor?"

"No."

"You're completely certain about that?"

"Absolutely."

"That has to be a nice feeling."

"It is."

"Right. Then I'd only lose my family. Not a problem at all!"

"I don't mean to be judgemental here, Draco, but if your parents would cut you out of their lives over this, then they need a priority check. Didn't the war teach us anything?"

"Don't associate with psychopaths?" he half-joked.

"And that those we love can be gone in the blink of an eye. The scariest thing isn't blood contamination. It's those that would use the issue of blood contamination to spread death and destruction wherever they go, killing Muggles and wizards alike."

"Like I said—don't associate with psychopaths."

"Make all the jokes you want, Draco," she said, shaking her head.

"You yourself got on my case about pursuing... who was it again?" He faked not remembering, so he wouldn't give himself away.

"That was different! It was Granger! For one thing, she's _Muggle-born_ , which people will react more strongly towards than half-blood, and for another, she's... Granger. I can't stand her. She can do no wrong. Did you know she actually participated in an unauthorised party and got drunk, yet nobody as much as docked her any house points? And she's supposed to be our Head Girl! Hah!"

Draco couldn't keep his lips from twitching. "I did know that, actually. I was helping her at the library at that time." And that had been the first time he'd kissed her. The thought made his smile fade. He really wished that had never happened.

"Why didn't you report her?"

"What? And risk her giving me a bad review? Sorry, love. Not even for you."

She only pouted in response to that, but Draco had received the message. She'd be fully behind him if he wanted to be with a half-blood, but if he wanted Hermione Granger, he was on his own.


	10. Chapter 10

_Ways to get over a stupid misplaced infatuation._

Hermione stared at her new list.

So far it only had one option.

_Drink poison._

Not that she would ever do anything that drastic, but right now it was her frustration talking. She kept seeing him flirting and it made her want to scream and kick someone. Preferably _him_. She didn't want to feel this way. She'd never asked for any of this stupid emotional baggage. She'd attempted to lecture herself on how sex wasn't love and it was perfectly all right to enjoy sex without feeling you had to make it mean more, but nothing worked.

She added another item to the list.

_Make him drink poison._

Yes, that was far more feasible. She'd be rid of him and able to move on with her life. Brilliant!

She sighed. If only she could.

"What are you doing?"

She jolted at the sound of the voice and immediately attempted to cover up her list with her arms. "M-Malfoy? How's that any of your business?"

"Don't make me take this from you as well."

"Have you ever heard of personal boundaries?"

"No."

He pushed away her arms, revealing her pathetic plans. "Ah. Weasley again, I see. I do like the idea of making him drink poison. I could even help if you'd like."

She rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"

"Who says I want anything?"

"You only come within ten feet of me if you want something, so spit it out."

He nodded. "Right. There is something. Remember that potion you stole?"

"Shh!" She glanced around. "Keep your voice down!"

"Yeah, that's the thing. I was the only one supposed to be there that day, so Slughorn thinks I did it. He put me in detention for two weeks."

"You didn't tell him it was me?"

"No. But I hoped you could do something to get me out of detention or at least make it worth my while."

Worth his while? She knew what he _didn't_ mean by that, so it was probably something a bit more material. "I'm sorry, I don't have any money."

He snorted. "Yeah, money is what I need."

"I can try to talk to him or see if I can persuade him that I have some use for you during your detention time."

"That would be nice."

"But what do you want from me if I fail? Do you want me to confess to him?"

"No. But at the very least I want you to help me with my Muggle Studies essay on aeroplanes. In fact, I think I want that even if you _can_ get me out of detention."

She'd really rather not. And she'd certainly not bring him to her room this time. But she supposed it would be a small price to pay. "All right. Meet me here tomorrow after school."

He nodded and left and she sighed. Tomorrow would be a very long day.

* * *

"Draco..."

Draco stopped up a few stacks away from Hermione as he heard his name softly spoken to his right and looked over to see Pansy standing there with a suspicious look on her face.

Oh, lovely.

"Pansy, hey. You use the library too, huh?"

"Not as much as you, apparently."

"You have a problem with me approaching Granger." It was a mere statement of fact.

"Why do you need to _do_ that?"

"I thought you'd have eavesdropped."

"Yeah, I heard. She got you in trouble. So what? Turn her in!"

"Her help is what might help me get my NEWTs and stay out of Azkaban. I really can't bother about your petty grievances when my own future is at stake here."

"You forget something, love."

"What?"

"I _know_ now."

"Know what?"

"How thick do you think I am? You're covering for Granger stealing a potion. Your mystery girl stole a potion. What are the odds?"

He immediately felt chilled to the bone. He'd forgotten about that.

"So... what are you going to do about it?" he quietly asked.

"What exactly can I do?"

"Cut your losses?"

"Don't be stupid, Draco. But why _her_? I don't understand it. I thought you hated her as much as I do!"

"I... don't know, Pansy. It's not like I can help it. She's kinder than you think, though. She hasn't turned down helping me with anything yet."

"But she doesn't want you."

"That has nothing to do with kindness."

"But she doesn't _want_ you."

He clenched his jaw and his fists, fighting back the urge to yell at Pansy. "What do you want from me?" he hissed. "I know she doesn't want me. I know you hate her. I know my family would object. I know every single thing about this is as stupid as can be."

Then he turned on his heel and marched out of the library.

* * *

"Oh, look. I thought you'd be out getting drunk or snogging fifth years. Looks like you still have time to study, huh?"

Hermione cringed. Not only did she have to deal with Draco today, she also had to deal with his dreadful ex-girlfriend? She supposed that was the price of being Head Girl.

"Some of us can do more than one thing without getting confused," she said as sweetly as she possibly could. "Can I help you with anything?"

Pansy regarded her with a very distasteful look on her face. "This is difficult."

"Take your time," Hermione said, absent-mindedly doodling whilst waiting for Pansy to think up some more abuse.

"I'm not certain time will help. Look, I..." She sighed, sounding really irritable. "I don't want to be nice to you, but I'd like some answers without you going on the defensive, all right?"

Normally Hermione would make some kind of scathing response, but she was too drained for that right now. "Answers about what?"

"Draco."

"Last I heard, you left him for someone else, so I don't see how he's any of your business."

"We're friends. You do know how that works, right?"

"Still doesn't give you any right to butt in."

"And I won't if I can't see any reason to. But first, what happened between you?"

Hermione put down her quill. "What I imagine happens between Draco and a lot of witches."

"No, that would be nothing."

Hermione pursed her lips. "I see you haven't paid any attention to the rumours."

Pansy laughed. "I know the rumours. I started them. I also know Draco. He's a cautious wizard when it comes to intimacy, even the physical kind. I usually pretend I believe the rumours, but I think we both know better."

"I think that has changed," Hermione muttered, examining her nails.

"Then you're not thinking hard enough."

"Excuse me?"

"Yes, excuse you. What happened between the two of you?"

"It's personal."

"All right. Did you really end it to be with your cheating ex?"

Hermione gaped. Pansy certainly didn't hold anything back. "He told you that?"

"I'm asking the questions here."

"No, now I am!" Hermione said a little too loudly, and suddenly Madam Pince materialised next to her. Her face was still pinched from her illness, but that didn't prevent her from glaring at Hermione and looking scrunched.

Hermione ducked her head. "I'm sorry, Madam Pince," she said before the librarian could scold her. "I became too excited about my turn with the book."

That didn't seem to appease Pince. "I don't see why I have to tolerate your filthy little hands on all my books," she hissed. "Keep quiet or leave!" Then she vanished again.

Hermione shuddered. She'd liked it much better when Pince hadn't been around.

Pansy drew out a chair next to Hermione and moved it closer, before she continued in a low voice as if there hadn't been any interruptions. "He didn't tell me it was _you_ , obviously. I figured that out for myself." She waved it off as insignificant.

"How?"

"Eavesdropping on you. Now answer my question."

"No! I mean, that was the plan, I suppose, but..." She shrugged.

"But what?"

"Why do you need all these details?"

"Because Draco is stupider than dirt. I can't count on him to figure anything out on his own."

Hermione couldn't help the snort.

"So what happened?" Pansy pushed.

Hermione shrugged again. This was embarrassing. "He said... he wanted to be with other girls now."

Pansy gaped.

Hermione continued, "And that it was time for me to get back together with Ron. And there was no point in... doing it again..." She fought the lump in her throat. The last thing she needed was to begin bawling in front of Pansy bloody Parkinson. "That's fine, though," she said with a shrug. "It was the deal. No promises were broken. We both got what we wanted."

Some of it, anyway.

"The thing you need to know about Draco..." Pansy finally said, "is that he's very defensive. He doesn't like to leave any opening for others to hurt him. He doesn't really have any friends, and he refuses to see most witches as people that could be interesting on more than a physical level. He's a lonely boy, but he thinks he prefers it that way. He doesn't realise that the pain is the price we pay for the joys and that it's usually worth it."

It took a while for Hermione to get over how deep Pansy was sounding and stop staring long enough to ask, "What does that have to do with me?"

"You said you had a deal. He probably said those things to you so you wouldn't say them first. If he rejected you, you couldn't reject him."

Hermione scowled. "You hate me. You're setting me up to be humiliated, aren't you?"

Pansy shook her head, looking regretful. "I do hate you and would love to humiliate you, but this isn't about me _or_ you right now. This is about him. If you look, I'm certain you can see that he was lying. And this is about as nice as I can be to you without vomiting, so if you'll excuse me..." She turned around and left.

Hermione pursed her lips, staring at Pansy's receding back. That had been surreal.

* * *

Draco dragged his feet the last few steps towards Hermione's door. He didn't know why she'd asked him to come here. Originally, she'd said the library after school, but then she'd sent him a note, saying something had come up and to meet her up here after dinner instead.

He'd _really_ have preferred the library.

Didn't she realise that they'd had sex in the bed in this very room?

He supposed she did. She had to sleep in that bed every night. Not that it was likely to bother her.

Reluctantly, he lifted his hand and knocked, startling when the door almost immediately swung open.

"There you are!" Hermione said, looking far too cheerful. "Well, come on in!"

He did as told and shot her a wary glance. "Like last time? I mean, last time I wrote an essay. I mean before the... um, should I sit at the desk?"

She shrugged and trotted over to the bed, swooping up a cat in her path. "So, aeroplanes, huh?"

"Yeah..." he sat down and took out parchments. "Although I don't understand how they float such a big thing without magic. It must get awfully heavy with all that metal and all those people inside."

"Science, Draco. Physics. Every time you think 'I wonder how they do that without magic?' that's probably the answer."

He nodded. He was at least beginning to understand that much. "So... why did you have to reschedule?"

"Something came up."

"You said that. What came up?"

"If you _must_ know, I was visiting with Professor Slughorn, trying to get you out of detention."

He perked up. "Yeah? Did it work?"

"Not exactly."

"Oh. Well. At least you tried."

"I said that wrong. You don't have to do the detention with him, but he still insisted on assigning certain tasks that you could then do with me instead. During which time he felt that we could also do any extra tasks I might have for you."

"Ah." That would be hell.

"Seeing as how I landed you in that detention, I'll simply do the work and he'll be none the wiser."

He glanced at her. She'd sat down in the middle of her bed, her back against the headboard and the cat on her lap. "So..." he hesitantly began, "I don't have to do anything?"

"No. I'll tell you what you 'did' each day and it should be fine in case he asks you about it."

"Then you did get me out!"

"I suppose."

"That has to be the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me!"

She snorted. "Don't forget that Pansy spread the sex god rumour about you."

"You're right. It's probably a toss-up between the two of you."

Her lips twitched. "What any girl wants to hear. Now, let's get back to that essay of yours..."

Getting homework help from Hermione in her room really wasn't that bad, Draco decided after a while of her obediently answering his questions and explaining the uses of aeroplanes to the best of her abilities. The only time it became awkward for him was when she leaned over him to check his book. She was too close. He could smell her hair. If he turned his head, he could kiss her neck.

He wondered how she'd react to that. Would she jump away and yell at him or turn her head against him and smile, allowing him to kiss her lips and drag her into his lap to hold her close whilst he deepened the kiss and...

"Draco? Draco!"

"Hm?" He blinked and looked up at Hermione, who was staring at him rather bemusedly. "What?"

"Are you tired? You were completely gone for a second there."

"Uh, yeah... I guess..." Maybe he was a little tired. Or maybe he had a hard time not reaching out for her.

"We can stop now if you like."

"No, I'd really like to finish this."

"We can finish it tomorrow. You can come by when I'm doing detention work and we can continue talking there."

In the Potions classroom. A safe place. A place that wouldn't have beds or leaning or memories. "All right!"

"See you tomorrow, then," she said with a smile.

It didn't occur to him until he was out in the corridor what had been so off about this. Her good mood. He hadn't seen her in such a good mood since that night they'd spent together. Even the morning after she'd seemed kind of subdued, probably already regretting everything. And then she'd been struggling with her relationship. But today... today she'd been almost... happy?

His heart sank as he realised what that probably meant. She'd most likely patched things up with Weasley.

He sighed. Good thing he hadn't actually kissed her, then.

* * *

Hermione gave herself one last once-over before she went for her detention work in the dungeons. Pansy had better be right about Draco or she would _kill_ her, and not in a quick and painless way. Oh, no. She had researched poisons! There would be pain and lots of it!

Yet she'd thought he'd responded a bit the day before when she'd done her best to be relaxed and approachable around him. So maybe Pansy wasn't merely out to cause misery.

Or maybe Pansy was better at causing misery than Hermione gave her credit for.

Today, Hermione planned to find out what was what for certain.

Amazingly enough, Draco had for once shown up on time for their meeting and was already seated at one of the tables in the front of the class, reading. He looked up and then stared when he saw her.

"You don't mind, do you?" she said, walking up to the front of the classroom. "Today was actually fairly balmy."

He shook his head. "No, it's fine... It's simply... been a while since you wore a skirt, hasn't it?"

She pursed her lips. Not since last time she wanted to provoke a physical response out of him, no. She'd also chosen a button-down shirt, just to have more options. "Not that long, really. But it feels like a long time, I'll give you that."

"A lot has happened," he muttered, giving her an indecipherable look.

She began climbing a ladder. "Just ask me your questions whenever you're ready," she said, going for the highest shelf.

"What are you doing?" he asked, sounding alarmed.

"My work."

"What?"

"I'm supposed to sort and clean these jars." She pointed to the top row of dusty glass jars.

"Oh."

She took out her wand and summoned the soapy water she'd prepared earlier, thanking Merlin for the magic to keep it heated so she didn't have to keep running off for more. And then she began cleaning the top shelf and jars. Occasionally, she had to get up on the tips of her toes to reach the back, but it wasn't too difficult to reach.

Draco was being completely quiet. A few glances told her he was staring at her, but right now she needed to get this task done so she could turn her mind back to more important matters. Like whether Draco still found her legs sexy.

She hadn't really thought about how the workout would make her sweat or how dusty it'd be here, though.

Oh, well. She'd have to clean up as best she could afterwards and leave further testing of Draco's potential attraction to her for another time.

There was only one small jar left in the back, when she reached up and almost lost her balance. It was not as bad as the last time she'd lost her balance on a ladder, though, and she quickly regained her footing, stretching once more to reach.

"Get down from there, Hermione."

She looked down, actually puzzled by his demand. He sounded almost angry. "Why?"

"You know that heights scare you and you risk hurting yourself if you panic."

She snorted at him. "Please. I may not be very comfortable with heights but I've flown a Thestral. A _Thestral._ Do you know what that's like, even for those who aren't afraid of heights? You fly on nothing you can see, high above everything... If I could do that, I can dust jars."

"That's not what you said at the library that time."

"That ladder was wobbly. I only asked you to hold it."

"Need me to hold this one?"

She sighed. "Look, either look up my skirt or do your essay, but for pity's sake stop fretting over me climbing a stupid ladder."

"If you want me to stop fretting then get down!"

She shot him an exasperated look and climbed down, but only because she was done anyway. When she was on the floor, she wiped her brow and began unbuttoning her shirt.

He immediately looked alarmed. "What are you doing?"

"I'm hot, Draco. And I probably look a fright to boot." She could only imagine what the dust did to her face. "I should probably go freshen up."

"No... You look fine, really." He looked away.

She gave him a long look and then shrugged, going closer to him. "So, what else do you need for this essay of yours?" She leaned in to squint at what he'd already written.

"Um... Muggles don't have anything like... Portkeys, do they?"

"No. That's usually when they use aeroplanes. Or cars. Or ships."

"Or... ships..." he muttered, writing everything down.

She leaned in a little closer, feeling her breasts rub against his arm. He froze. She wondered if she was invading his personal space and making him uncomfortable or if he was having a more positive reaction to her, dust and all.

"Hermione," he said, his voice strained. "Do you... need to stand so close?"

"Does it make you uncomfortable?"

"Quite frankly, it's making me confused."

"Of course it is. Tell me, Draco, did you enjoy looking at my legs?"

He flushed—something she hadn't seen in ages. "You could've worn trousers. You knew you were going to climb ladders today."

"But I told you. I enjoy showing off skin around you."

This didn't seem to help his confusion. "Why? Is it a confidence thing? Do you need reassurance that you're still sexy? You could've simply asked. I would've told you that you are."

"It's hard to ask you if I'm sexy when you're avoiding me and would rather be with anyone else."

His flush deepened. "Why are you doing this? We had a one-off and now you're obviously with Weasley, so what—"

She sighed, sitting down on the table next to him, showing off her legs whilst doing so. "Oh, don't be stupid, Draco. You know I broke it off with him."

"But you were so depressed about him and then—"

"Do I really need to spell it out?"

"Yes, please. Because I don't understand anything right now."

"Fine. You and I slept together."

"I'm with you so far."

"Then I woke up to you sneaking out and telling me that you'd rather shag other witches than me."

He flinched. "I'm certain that's not quite how—"

"Shut up. That's how it went."

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"Then I wrote Ron—"

"Now I'm following again."

"—to tell him not to wait for me, because I'd rather be friends with him than lovers."

"What?" He looked positively stunned.

"And meanwhile you were avoiding me whilst flirting with any other girl who would look at you. You know, being true to what you'd said."

"Again, that's not quite how—"

"I told you to shut up!" she interrupted him.

"Yes, Madam Granger."

She ignored his cheekiness. "Then I stole the potion."

"And lied to me about your Weasley cheating again, obviously," he interjected.

"What was I supposed to say?"

"If you regretted breaking up with him so much, then why didn't you talk to him and work it out?"

She sighed. "You're still not getting it. Next, you caught me making a fantasy list at the library."

"I liked that list."

"And Pansy Parkinson overheard us talking when you told me about your detention."

He stared at her. "How did you know that? Did she say something?"

"She said quite a lot, actually."

He groaned. "I'm so, so sorry. Please believe that I didn't know she'd actually confront you about something that wasn't any of her business. I should've known better."

"I'm kind of glad she did, actually."

"Excuse me?"

"She told me you were stupider than dirt, and I'm likely to agree."

"That's... comforting."

"Are you still following?" she asked.

"No, not at all."

She sighed. She really had to do this the embarrassing way, didn't she? She slipped down on the bench next to him. "I didn't take the hate potion because of Ron."

He stared at her. "You didn't?"

"No."

"Then..." He seemed to have a hard time processing this.

"Yeah."

"No." He shook his head.

"No?"

"I mean... no." He shook his head again.

"Oh." A heavy feeling was beginning to develop in the pit of her stomach.

"No! I'm just... me?"

She stared at him. "Try speaking in whole sentences instead. Maybe I'll have a better chance of figuring out what you're trying to say."

"I'm afraid I don't... I mean, I don't think I understand," he stammered.

"Really? Still?"

"Stupider than dirt, remember?"

She put her hand on his cheek and leaned in to kiss him. He didn't draw back. If anything, he seemed uncertain how to respond. When she made to pull away, though, he followed. It gave her some hope and she put her arms around his neck, kissing him more firmly.

"Wait..." he muttered, breaking the kiss. "What exactly is this?"

She looked away. Couldn't he tell? But then she forced herself to raise her head and look him straight in the eyes. "I know I said I wouldn't, but I fell for you whilst I was trying to seduce you."

"You... why?"

She shook her head. Really? He had to ask her why? "I'll be damned if I know. The potion didn't work. I can still list a whole foot of flaws I see in you without any bloody potion, but it doesn't seem to matter."

It was his turn to look away. "Why are you telling me this?"

He couldn't have hurt her more if he'd punched her face at that moment. The implied rejection was almost too much to bear, but she had to see this through. "She said you were defensive. That you had problems letting anyone in. I only need to know if that's the reason you rejected me or if you were simply done with me."

"I don't think I can do this," he said, physically withdrawing from her and hurriedly beginning to pack up his things.

She should walk away. Now. "Look, it's easy, Malfoy," she heard herself say. "Or I'll make it easy. Just say yes or no. If you say no, I won't ever even hint at having feelings for you again. I promise. Just... make a choice?"

"I... can't..." He shook his head, grabbed his bag and all but ran out.

Crushed and shocked to the core even though she shouldn't be, Hermione stared after him.

He'd said no.

* * *

Draco rushed up to the old office, praying that nobody was using it and then sat down at the desk and tried to control his breathing.

He'd panicked.

He'd fucking panicked and he wasn't even certain why. All he knew was that he was shaking and not in a very good way.

What was happening here?

He was in love with her. He wanted to be with her. She'd told him that she felt the _same_ way and rather than be happy and kiss her again, he'd run off.

Oh, God, the way she'd looked at him when he'd got up to leave. It had been so heartbreaking, but he'd been unable to explain what was happening. He didn't know.

Maybe Pansy had a point about his problems letting anyone in.

He'd been doing nothing but thinking up excuses why he couldn't try to win Hermione over for so long. It had never even occurred to him that she might want to be won over.

It certainly had never occurred to him that _if_ she wanted to be won over, his first instinct would be to create as much distance between them as he possibly could.

He knew he'd hurt her badly just now and it made him feel rotten to the core.

She'd kissed him and told him she had feelings for him and then he'd fled the room like he was hunted by a dragon.

Reluctantly he got to his feet again. He could at least go to her room and apologise for that.

Before he could decide against it, he forced his feet in the direction of her room. It really wasn't that far from here. He would think of something to say once he got there, he hoped. Something to make her understand what he didn't even understand himself. She was smart. Far smarter than him. She'd tell him why he felt this way.

He reached the door and knocked a few times. She didn't seem inclined to answer, but he knew she had to be in there, so he kept knocking. Finally, she opened the door and stared at him with big, wounded eyes.

Something inside him squeezed together so tightly he could hardly breathe. "I'm sorry—"

The second the words were out, she slammed the door in his face.

He knocked again a few times, but she didn't open.

"Come on, Hermione," he said, his voice hoarse from all the emotions he was trying to keep in check. "I didn't mean..."

"Go away!" she shouted from the other side.

He winced. "There's no need for you to—"

She tore the door open and glared at him. "That is _not_ for you to decide!"

"I know..." he muttered, mostly feeling like running away again. "I never wanted any of this to happen."

She sneered at him and stepped aside. "Get in here so I can yell at you without half the school hearing it."

He hesitantly entered. He deserved to be yelled at.

She slammed the door behind him and then turned to face him. "Why are you here?" she asked, crossing her arms. "Why don't you have the decency to leave me alone? Even you must realise that you're the last person I want to see right now."

He nodded. "Please let me explain."

"And what's this brilliant explanation for running off like that?"

"I panicked."

She snorted. "I could tell that much."

"I didn't... I mean, I..." He began sweating. This was hard. The words wouldn't come out.

"What?"

"I... It's..."

She took a long hard look at him and then sighed and quite suddenly plonked down in her chair, looking more deflated than anything. "You're sorry. I get it. You're not obligated to have feelings for me. I didn't think you did, but then Pansy made me think I was wrong and... I'm sorry for putting you in that position. You were clearly uncomfortable with it. It's not your fault. I should've known I couldn't trust her. I did know, but..." She shrugged, looking away.

He violently shook his head. "No! Listen!"

"What?"

"Pansy was right, all right? I don't do feelings very well."

"I'm beginning to see that."

"No, I said that wrong. I don't _share_ feelings very well. I have them, but... I prefer to keep them to myself."

"I see."

"Do you?"

"You're hardly the first person ever to have intimacy issues, Draco."

But it went a bit further than that! How could he explain it? "I never even told Pansy..."

"Told her what?"

He frowned, trying to find the words. "That I liked her. Going out with her simply sort of happened without me having to do or say anything. She accepted that I couldn't voice those feelings and never seemed to mind. I'm... actually better at it now. I mean... I told her about you, didn't I?"

He was afraid to ask exactly what Pansy had told Hermione about that.

"Why is it that hard for you?" she asked. She seemed to earnestly want to understand him.

He shrugged. "I have my theories. Does it really matter?"

"I'd like to know."

Girls and their constant need to believe there was a deeper reason for everything.

"My father always taught me that showing tender emotion is a weakness that can be exploited by others. It wasn't until after the Battle of Hogwarts that I saw him show any himself. It doesn't come natural to me."

Her lips were pressed tightly together. "I really don't like your father."

"I don't think he minds that."

She snorted. "Is that what you're afraid of? That I'll _exploit_ you?"

"You _are_ fairly dominating, Hermione." And he meant that in the best possible way. He loved the way she always surprised him.

She shook her head. "No... I'm goal-oriented. I don't want anyone to be the boss in any relationship I might have. That's not how it works."

"But that's what's so confusing to me. I was taught that I _should_ be the boss in all of my relationships with people, but I clearly can't control you!"

"Nor do you want to."

"I don't?"

"Think about all those other witches you've tried to go out with who either let you take charge or ran away. I believe 'vapid' was the word you used?"

"I... maybe?" This was slightly confusing.

"I think you're tired of always taking the initiative. It might scare you to not be fully in control, but it also excites you."

He stared at her. "How old were you again?"

"Don't even go there," she warned.

He grinned. "I simply meant... that was rather insightful."

"Now the question remains... are you in love with that feeling, or are you in love with me?"

He pursed his lips. "I don't recall saying anything about being in love."

"Oh, please. You're still here. You're in love." The way she said it was like it was nothing out of the ordinary, simply another fact of the day.

He couldn't help but laugh. She was so refreshingly blunt and unashamed of herself. "Please don't hold back now."

She raised an eyebrow and got to her feet. "All right, I won't. You're in love. Either with this feeling or with me or both. I must be in love with you because I _certainly_ am not in love with feeling like an idiot for falling for someone who doesn't want me." She went up to him and put her hands on his shoulders. "I hope you're in love with me or at least want me enough to eventually fall in love with me."

He touched her cheek, unable to look away from her eyes. Of course he was in love with her. He didn't have any doubts whatsoever. "I want you more than anything."

"Are you completely certain about that?" she asked, leaning her cheek against his hand. "You mentioned your father. He won't be thrilled if we start seeing each other. I don't think meeting your family would _ever_ be an option."

"I wouldn't be the first blood traitor in the family. What my parents intend to do about that is up to them."

"Really?"

"Really. I'm old enough to live my own life."

"I thought you lived to please your father."

He sighed and looked away, dropping his hand. "Yeah... Until that meant getting the Dark Mark and having to torture and attempt to kill people or alternately watch my family die in front of my very eyes. Since then, I've been much less enthusiastic about it."

She shook her head and smiled. "You're so damaged."

"Aren't we all?"

"Certainly. Do you think you'll ever be able to say the words?"

He looked at her. He had a feeling he would very soon if she kept looking at him like that. "Would it be a problem if I couldn't?"

"I think I'd be sad if you never said it."

"Hmm..." He put his arms around her waist. "But what if I had to go to Azkaban? Would you still be there when I got out?"

She snorted a laugh but stopped when he shot her a puzzled look. "Oh, you're serious? You're not going to Azkaban."

"We don't know that yet," he had to point out. "My trial is pending and—"

"And you've had stellar reviews all year and are now seeing a Muggle-born who was prominent on the winning side of the war. You're not going anywhere."

He blinked in surprise. "When you put it like that..."

"Yeah, I know. Falling for me was the smartest thing you did all year."

"I'll say."

"So, about making you tell me anything I want to hear."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes?"

"I'll need to seduce you until you're so mad with need that you can't keep quiet, of course."

"And that will motivate me to break down, how?"

"Well..." She shot him a wicked smile. "If you actually want me to have _sex_ with you again, you'll give in eventually."

He stared at her. "You wouldn't."

"Is that a challenge?"

Well! He'd actually planned on saying the words right now, but...

He shouldn't waste such a golden opportunity.

He couldn't wait to be seduced.

"Bring it on," he whispered before he hid a smirk and bent down to kiss her.

* THE * END *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed this blast from the past!
> 
> This is the prompt the fic was based on:
> 
> **REQUEST:**  
>  Would you prefer an art or fic gift? Either  
> Preferred rating: T or higher but no PWP, please :)  
> Describe what you'd like in as few words/keywords as possible: angsty romance, Hogwarts Era (AU 7th and 8th year included) or shortly after the war, happy/hopeful ending but nothing overly fluffy or gushy  
> Optional: Song, Poem, or Quote (title/original creator): Jar of Hearts by Christina Perri ~ more specifically, these lyrics:   
> It took so long just to feel all right  
> Remember how to put back the light in my eyes  
> I wish I had missed the first time that we kissed  
> Cause you broke all your promises  
> (I'd like to see that from Hermione's perspective but it's not an absolute and can be interpreted in whatever way inspires)  
> AND! An appearance by Mean Girl with a Deeeeeply Buried Heart of Gold!Pansy (optional but it would make a me happy) :D  
> Dealbreakers (absolute no-no's): complete world-altering AU (e.g. Voldemort-won, Regency Era, Muggle...), gore or very dark themes, OOC characterizations/actions without reasonable justification, character bashing, adultery


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